


Whatever We Want

by rabekka



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: The Animated Series, Harley Quinn (Comics), Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arkham Asylum, Attempted Sexual Assault, Blood and Violence, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Girls with Guns, Gore, Harley Quinn Backstory, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Joker (DCU) Backstory, My First Smut, Non-abusive Joker, Past Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Past Sexual Abuse, Revenge Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:47:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28354164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rabekka/pseuds/rabekka
Summary: Ivy enlists the help of a friend to break her and Harley out of Arkham Asylum.*This is an AU/short-story inspired by my main one, Unmasked, and dedicated to Endora, of course (for constantly putting awesome ideas in my head).
Relationships: Joker (DCU) & Harleen Quinzel, Joker (DCU)/Harleen Quinzel, Joker (DCU)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 18





	1. Breakout

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EndoratheWitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/gifts).



As Harley Quinn lay on her back in her makeshift bed sheet hammock, staring at the ceiling of her Arkham Asylum cell (cage, was a more descriptive term), she contemplated the events of how she became a patient — rather, an inmate — in the facility she had worked at for the past year.

Dr. Harleen Quinzel had been a fresh, promising psychiatrist — she was intelligent and motivated, and eager to make a difference in peoples’ lives. She worked her ass off for her career, and a lot of motivation was derived from people who saw her as a ‘dumb blond’ cliché. Proving them wrong was a favorite pastime of hers, especially when she chose to focus on psychology. Delving into the human mind was a fascinating temptation she couldn’t resist.

After graduation, she interned at a few medical facilities until she obtained a coveted job at Gotham’s most prestigious hospital — it was a dream come true! Dr. Quinzel seemed to impress all her colleagues by quickly making progress on the commonplace patients. After only six months, Dr. Arkham assigned her to the notorious Poison Ivy — getting to work with the most complex psychological cases was Harleen’s equivalent to winning the lottery.

To her coworkers’ astonishment, she was the only one who could get Ivy to talk and behave (for the most part). She even got her moved to a proper room with a window, instead of the barbaric basement cages they reserved for the famous Gotham villains that were caught frequently by Batman. Harleen was making progress with all of her patients and impressing her supervisors after only eight months — all that hard work was finally coming to fruition!

But, as she now knew full well, one bad day can derail your whole life plan in an instant… all thanks to that misogynist Dr. Arkham and his antiquated views about female coworkers.

It was so clear to her now, the only reason he hired her was because of her looks, and apparently that gave him an invitation to assume she ‘owed’ him for giving her a job. Something snapped in her that evening after he cornered her in his office… when she protested as politely as possible, he told her there were tons of other qualified male candidates he turned down just for her, so she should be grateful, cause he could fire her just as quickly.

Luckily the attempted assault didn’t go very far; she was still mostly clothed after she stabbed Dr. Arkham in the neck with his own dagger-style letter opener. She contentedly watched him bleed out on his expensive Persian rug by his antique desk, surrounded by his books and trinkets — visual affirmations to staff and patients regarding his supposed intelligence.

All Harleen did was defend herself, but because Dr. Arkham was infamous via his paternal hand-me-downs, the board of directors wanted immediate justice. Apparently killing a coworker, even out of desperation, got you blacklisted and made you a target for abuse (even from other colleagues you thought cared about you).

So now, Harley Quinn, as she dubbed herself (since Dr. Harleen Quinzel was metaphorically dead), was no longer a psychiatrist (her PhD was revoked), with falsified admission forms vaguely stating that she had a ‘psychotic break’. Because she had no family left living to legally contest her incarceration, she was stuck in this tiny cage for the foreseeable future.

Harley had all the time in the world now, to think and get lost in thought, and contemplate why her boss allowed a newbie doctor to work with someone as ‘dangerous’ as Ivy. All the pathetic attempts at flirting from Dr. Arkham that she tried to ignore (but eventually just got used to) must have irked him. Once he saw that she wasn’t reciprocating, he thought that if he stuck her with a Level Four patient that could easily hurt her, she’d have to beg him for reassignment — thus owing him another ‘favor’ and giving that asshole more leverage to abuse his power.

But to everyone’s surprise, she got along with Ivy, and that pissed off Dr. Arkham. That wasn’t his goal, so he went the direct route — unfortunately for him, he picked the wrong woman to mess with!

Was it worth it, Harley wondered, getting locked in a basement cage with few amenities and no freedom, even though she rid the world of that narcissistic rapist? As strange as it sounded, she actually felt freer than she ever had her whole life — she wasn’t trapped in the revolving door of societal constructs anymore; no more fighting for respect from people she didn’t have anything to prove to, just to make ends meet. It was like she had removed a suffocating mask and could finally breath.

She was never going back to her old self, she decided. Even if they did release her at some point, she was a blank slate now — she was going to do whatever the fuck she wanted. All that work and planning, just to end up trapped in a cage… fuck everyone and everything — that was her new life philosophy!

However, although she was mentally free, being locked up physically was no picnic (especially in a dank cell with a cot for a mattress and limited toiletries). Some of the female staff did secretly smuggle her various treats now and then, as a ‘thank you’ for getting rid of Dr. Arkham. That helped immensely when she started to doubt her actions or reexamine her situation.

Trying to contemplate escape was proving difficult, as familiar with this building as she thought was (though now she knew there was a lot more to this facility and its goings-on than she assumed). Luckily for her, though, Ivy had smuggled her a note two days ago:

_A friend is breaking me out in two nights. You’re coming with. Be ready. ~Red_

Harley could barely contain her excitement, let alone her intrigue about why Ivy was going to help her. Harley assumed ‘being ready’ meant behaving herself so it wouldn’t give her captors cause to sedate her into a coma overnight, per usual. This was particularly challenging when the guards and orderlies treated her like crap — not fighting back felt like drowning, but she kept reminding herself it’d be worth it. She wondered if they assumed they finally ‘broke’ her into complying… the joke was on them, she thought maliciously.

Either way, because she was on her best behavior, her appointed psychiatrist rewarded her with an actual real shower (not just a bucket with a washcloth). Funny how she had always taken something as simple as a shower for granted her whole life; now it was like her birthday! She had so many chances to hurt the imbeciles that escorted her there, and the female nurses that kept watch, but she resisted… she needed to save her energy. And besides, the promise of a real shower, plus escaping overnight, calmed her sufficiently.

Now here she was, relaxing in her hammock post-shower, pretending to sleep and waiting for Ivy. For a brief moment, she wondered if it was really happening… but Ivy had broken out of Arkham a lot in the past, before Harleen was hired, so she was confident that nothing would prevent her from succeeding.

But who was this friend that was helping them, Harley wondered… from all of their talks, it didn’t sound like Ivy was very fond of keeping people around, even before the accident that gave her meta-human abilities. No point in wondering about it, though, since she’d meet them soon.

*

Ivy was sitting cross-legged on the bed in her ‘posh’ asylum cell (thanks to Dr. Quinzel), staring up at the gated window near the ceiling, wearing the standard gray Arkham-brand scrub top and sweatpants. She had her hands resting on her thighs like she was meditating, tapping her fingers on one knee restlessly.

Waiting to be broken out was tiresome, but she knew Joker would come through for her, since they both made a pact to free each other every time stupid Bats dropped them off. (It was easier and more successful to have help with an escape; otherwise you could potentially end up in solitary, where breakout was damn near impossible.)

Ivy didn’t have many people involved in her life these days, but her friend since childhood managed to stick around, even after the incident that changed them both permanently (but for the better). It was rare that they participated in each other’s criminal activities though — their end-goals being vastly different — but they were still supportive of one another when needed (much like siblings).

But like an annoying older brother, Joker could be so irritating for the hell of it. She requested this whole escape be done ‘quietly’ so they’d have more time to go downstairs and grab Harley before leaving the building. If he came in guns-a-blazing like he preferred, it’d hinder her plan to help her former doctor get out (and remain uninjured).

Ivy figured he would oblige her this time, but she was sure he’d kill as many people as he could along the way — he couldn’t help himself (though she couldn’t blame him, having a vexing history with most of the staff at Arkham).

After lights-out, she got a text from Joker on a burner that was smuggled to her, that he was on his way. A little over an hour later, Ivy heard a nearby hallway door open, then she listened to the inevitable (and familiar) sound of a knife sinking into flesh, followed by the thud of a body dropping to the floor.

Joker, in his perfectly tailored suit (a plum pinstripe combo with a silver shirt), sidled up to Ivy’s padded polycarbonate cell and tucked one of his many knives back into his jacket.

“Hey, Pammy! Salvation has arrived…” He gave her his classic, perfect teeth smile, but immediately frowned as he took stock of her fancy cell she wasn’t normally in (and he was rarely in, if ever). “How the hell did you manage to get such fancy digs?” he asked begrudgingly.

Ivy slinked off her bed and ambled to the door. “A new, persuasive Doctor,” she bragged with her arms crossed, smirking at his disgruntled reaction.

Joker couldn’t resist his petulant tone while he foraged through his pockets for a keycard he stole from a guard on his way in. “Yeah, well, if I could zombify people, I’d be mayor of Gotham by now…” he pouted.

“I didn’t!” Ivy grumbled, then chuckled at herself for instantly turning into an argumentative sibling around him (per usual). She continued before he could retort while slipping on some shoes, “This one is different… she talked to me… like a real person.”

Joker paused his search and looked up at Ivy, raising one eyebrow. “Ohhh… SHE? Now I get it,” he drawled, then laughed at the irritated scowl she threw back at him. Once he finally found the card, he unlocked Ivy’s door and opened it for her.

“I’m serious… this one was different,” Ivy stated honestly as she exited her room. “Which is why we’re going to get her before we leave.” She looked at Joker’s face, waiting for his reaction to her bizarre request.

He looked comically baffled. “What? You wanna bring your doctor with you? Since when do you bring home conquests? Or do you just want free therapy…”

Ivy scoffed and rolled her eyes, cutting him off before he could continue his customary prattle. “Just c’mon, we’re wasting time…”

Joker groaned dramatically. “Fine…” he relented. “What floor is her office on?”

Ivy looked at him and smirked, then started walking towards the stairwell away from the hall that would lead them to the psychiatrist’s area.

Joker tilted his head at her curiously, but followed her anyway. For once, he did as Ivy requested and broke into Arkham quietly (since no alarms were sounding off), but he did make a point to leave a trail of dead bodies on the way in; classic Joker, Ivy thought.

After the duo reached the stairwell that would lead them to the basement cages, Joker couldn’t hold back his curiosity any longer. “Ok Pammy, what’s going on…” he eyed her suspiciously as they descended.

Ivy loved that, for once, he wasn’t in complete control of the situation. It was really the only way she could push his buttons (aside from using the ‘pretty boy' nickname he had before his transformation, but she saved that for special occasions). “I told you, we’re gonna bring my doctor with us…” she smiled nonchalantly, but then decided to take pity on him since he looked so lost. “Did the news report about Dr. Arkham’s death?” After seeing Joker nod his head, she continued, “Did they say it was natural causes?”

“Yep,” Joker replied. “Such a pity…” he lied, sighing plaintively.

“Well… he didn’t die from natural causes, he was murdered — by my therapist,” Ivy smiled and wondered if Joker’s brow could furrow even more in confusion than it already was. “So they locked her up,” she ended sagely with a shrug.

Joker was bewildered and a little speechless, which was rare. “Shit… ok so, she was a doctor when she killed him, not a patient? Why’d she do it?” He noticed a change in Ivy’s demeanor when she looked at him dejectedly.

“I’ll let her tell you that story if she wants, it’s not for me to surmise; but I do know it was self-defense,” Ivy concluded while frowning.

Joker looked at her tacitly and responded with a displeased hum; unfortunately, he could easily speculate on why a female subordinate would need to defend herself against a male supervisor. He was suddenly irked by the shift in mood — breakouts were supposed to be exciting and fun!

Before he could complain, they reached their destination, so Joker used the keycard to gain access to the ‘volatile patient’ area. He deduced that the former psychiatrist killing the facility’s beloved Dr. Arkham must have pissed off _everyone_ if they locked her up down in ‘purgatory’ (as the inmates called it).

Joker let Ivy lead the way, even though there weren’t many cells down here. He stood behind her as they stepped in front of the cage and saw bed sheets tied up into a makeshift hammock (which looked surprisingly comfortable and private). He’d have to try that next time he was in here, he mused.

Ivy grasped the bars at the door and quietly called out, “Harley?”

Harley comically popped her head up from her hammock, much like a prairie dog, and squeaked excitedly, “Hi, Red!!” She then proceeded to disembark from her improvised bed gracefully, using her gymnast skills to flip around it once and seemingly float to the ground.

Joker chuckled quietly when the blonde’s head popped up, but his expression shifted from amused to utterly transfixed when he watched her elegantly dismount to the floor then skip up to Ivy exuberantly, her ponytail bouncing around. She was not at all what he was expecting… he imagined a timid, boring woman who got caught up in a bad situation. But instead, he couldn’t stop staring at this gorgeous, pale creature with bright blue eyes, glowing blond hair, and the most stunning, genuine smile he had ever seen — he was mesmerized.

Luckily, neither of the women noticed the shift in Joker’s expression, which he was thankful for. As he tried to compose himself, he shook his head imperceptibly to jolt out of his stupor.

Harley couldn’t contain her excitement about their pending escape after hearing Ivy’s voice; as she skipped up to her cell door she was practically vibrating! Her attention was focused on Ivy when she grabbed the bars of her cage, but she promptly noticed Joker, causing her to blink in shock. “Holy shit… you’re the Joker!!!” she continued without letting anyone respond to her revelation, turning to look at Ivy with elated eyes. “He’s the friend you mentioned? That’s so cool…” she snickered at her own uncontained giddiness.

The last person Harley expected to help Ivy break out of here was the Joker; the thought hadn’t even occurred to her. But now she was in the presence of two of Gotham’s notorious criminals, shabbily dressed in Arkham-gray sweatpants, sports-bra and a tanktop. She quickly shook off her self-consciousness — she was too excited to get the hell out of here!

Ivy smiled at her new friend’s elation; she was surprised that Joker didn’t do his traditional and theatrical introduction of himself, so Ivy did it for him (though it came off as sarcastic). “Yep… the one and only!”

Ivy stuck her hand out at him, gesturing for the keycard (even though these cells looked primitive, they still required a card to unlock). Ivy’s brow furrowed curiously when she finally noticed Joker’s enthralled expression. She didn’t have time to process his intrigue at Harley, or how much she was looking forward to teasing him about it later; they needed to get out before someone caught them and notified the authorities — and inevitably Batman.

Without losing his gaze at Harley, Joker handed Ivy the access card for the door while she slipped on her scrub top and lace-free shoes. She bounced out of the unlocked door and gave Joker a little wave with shy smile, “Harley Quinn, nice to meetcha.”

Joker could only muster up a garbled ‘hello’, but fortunately they were pressed for time, so Harley didn’t notice how infatuated he was. He had to snap out of it, he told himself; something was wrong with him… or maybe Ivy was doing some sort of pheromone thing on him as a joke, he thought suspiciously.

Ivy’s voice cut through his foggy distraction, “Alright, J, can we get out down here? Or do we have to go back upstairs?”

Joker mostly had his faculties under control again; Harley was going to think he was some creepy weirdo if he didn’t stop gazing at her. “We have to go over to C-Wing, Frost is waiting for us on the service road on the west side.”

Ivy hummed studiously, working out the details quickly in her head.

Harley watched as her and Joker quickly debated which routes to take, without argument, then they gestured for her to follow them. She hoped if things got messy, she could keep up... she was still baffled that Ivy was helping her break out and now they were joined by the Joker — it was too much to process!

Joker was sure Ivy had noticed he was unusually quiet on their way to their destination; he honestly didn’t know what to do with himself, so he concentrated on what he was good at — observing his environment and keeping an eye out for people to kill.

The group stealthily made their way to C-Wing, having not encountered anyone else. Harley took note of a few dead former coworkers that dotted the hallways like breadcrumbs; she shrugged at herself for not caring one bit about their deaths. C’est la vie, she mused, then went back to admiring Joker’s confident gait and broad shoulders… he was quite svelte, she deduced.

Once they reached the hallway they needed, the unmistakable smell of cigarette smoke was in the air. Apparently some guards decided this was the smoking hallway they could use without having to go out front through security.

Ivy and Joker gave each other a meaningful glace, then Joker pulled out a KA-1117 knife from his jacket. Normally he’d just shoot both of them, but Ivy had asked him to do this quietly and guns were the epitome of noise (even with a silencer, which were no fun). But on the flipside, the only weapons guards were allowed are tasers and batons. Joker had been tasered more times than he could count, so he was fairly immune at this point (though that didn’t mean it still didn’t hurt like hell and piss him off).

As the group creeped up to the corner right before the L-shaped hallway curved, Joker peered around it quickly; he held up two fingers to the girls, signifying two people. Both guards would have walkie-talkies on them and there was an alarm button about half way down the hall, so he’d need to bait them to come closer.

He motioned for the girls to step back a little bit, giving him some space to work; he put his empty hand up to his mouth and did a fake cough to get the guards’ attention. They both immediately stopped their chitchat and snuffed out their cigarettes on the floor. Neither was making a point to walk quietly towards the escapees… this was going to be too easy, Joker thought with disappointment.

He glanced back at the girls to take stock of the space he had, catching Harley’s eager eyes for a moment, which made his stomach twinge. Swallowing roughly and furrowing his brow, Joker tried to avoid getting distracted again by turning around and putting his back to them. He deftly flipped his blade a few times to bring his focus back to the impending task.

Once the guards got within reaching distance, Joker sidestepped into their view and smiled, “Hey Gents, I’m a little lost… can you direct me to the nearest exit?”

Their astonished expressions were comical; they seemed too stunned to make a move, trying to comprehend why the Joker materialized in front of them, dressed in non-inmate clothing, holding a weapon. He took advantage of their bewilderment and grabbed one guard’s shirt, tugged him close, and stabbed him swiftly a few times in the torso. The guard tried to yell out, but his voice gurgled on the blood that instantly pooled in his throat; Joker shoved him away and went after the next one who was still frozen with shock.

Harley watched in awe at Joker’s speed and dexterity; he was like a rattlesnake, striking instantly with lethal precision, every movement smooth and calculated. It was affecting her more than she realized, watching him kill someone… the term ‘hybristophilia’ came to mind as she felt an unexpected pang of electricity in her groin. She was enthralled watching him; it might be something she’d have to psychoanalyze later… or not.

After Joker tossed the first guard to the floor, he quickly moved behind the second guy, grabbed his forehead and tilted his head back to expose his throat. As the guard was fumbling to grab his walkie and call for help, Joker drew his blade across the guy’s neck and let his body drop to the floor. He turned to face the girls and smiled, gesturing down the hallway, “Ladies, your chariot awaits!”

Harley suddenly felt bummed that their escape adventure was coming to an end so soon, and wondered if she could ensure their paths crossed again in the future.

The girls stepped past the dying guards, then headed down the hall towards the exit door; Ivy led the way with Joker behind her and Harley bringing up the rear. As she became distracted again by Joker’s back, she didn’t hear the slight scuffle behind her.

A third guard on the way down to join the other two for a smoke break, had encountered his dead colleagues. After the initial shock wore off, he shifted his vision from his buddies to the group that was casually walking down the hall towards the exit. In his panic, instead of reaching for his walkie to call for backup, he reached down and pulled up his pant leg to retrieve his smuggled SIG P365 from an ankle holster. (Griggs thought it was ridiculous that they were only allowed tasers and batons in this facility that housed mass murders… how was he supposed to defend himself properly without a gun? He bought this one specifically for its size, so it would stay hidden; bringing a concealed weapon into the asylum was a felony. After he lost a few coworkers, though, he decided he wasn’t going to die in this shithole at the hands of some crazies who should be lobotomized and left to rot.)

Joker suddenly stopped walking and went still after sensing a shift in the air, causing Harley to stop abruptly, then tilt her head at him curiously. He swiftly turned around and withdrew a knife from his jacket, spotting the third guard scrambling to access an ankle holster (a sight he was very familiar with). He quickly swept Harley to the side with his non-knife hand, and in one fluid, practiced motion, he chucked the blade at Griggs with a snarl.

Right when Griggs started to bring up his gun, he saw Joker throw a knife in his direction, so he fired it immediately without aiming at anything (more focused on dodging the huge weapon flying at him). Right after he fired the gun, he felt the stinging pain of a blade embedding into his shoulder, startling him enough to drop his pistol.

Harley let out a surprised gasp at being moved to the side by Joker, which turned into a loud, angry yelp when she felt something hot tear across the side of her thigh. She instinctively grasped her wound with both hands, then looked back up at the shooter — it was Griggs! She recognized his disgusting, pervert face immediately. Using all the rage she felt for the endless, unyielding bullshit he put her through, she ignored her wound and sprinted towards him, yelling “you fucking asshole!!!”

Joker and Ivy both called out Harley’s name to get her to stop, but she was in a fog of abject fury. She saw that Griggs had dropped his gun and was preoccupied with the knife in his shoulder, so she took the opportunity to reach for the nearest weapon she could find — the first guard’s baton lying on the floor. She picked it up, raised it over her head, and brought it down as hard as she could onto Griggs’s skull while snarling; he instantly collapsed into unconsciousness.

Harley’s mind suddenly flashed with all the harassment he put her through (which increased tenfold when she became a patient). The hatred she felt towards him, Dr. Arkham, and the entire facility, fueled the relentless beating she gave his head until it was an unrecognizable mash. When she was finished (mostly from exhaustion), she threw the baton at the wall with a frustrated grunt, then yelled at him, “Suck on that, you piece of shit!!!” She punctuated her outburst by spitting on his dead body.

Harley took a deep (but unsteady) breath and turned around to see Ivy and Joker staring at her in surprise. She saw a smile tug at Joker’s lips and watched him tuck his bottom lip between his teeth, which made her suddenly feel shy as her cheeks flush. “Uh, sorry… I’m done,” she stated quietly, blowing a strand of hair out of her face that had come loose.

After Joker had heard Harley yell, clearly having been shot, he uncharacteristically froze; as he felt a barrage of unfamiliar emotions for this woman he just met, he watched her run towards the injured guard. When he forced his limbs to finally move towards her, to protect her from the Griggs’s imminent retaliation, he stopped to watched with reverence as she beat Griggs to death. It was clear from her unabashed anger that she had history with him, which made Joker clench his jaw. After he saw the guard was clearly incapacitated after the first hit, he relaxed to enjoy the show.

Joker chuckled to himself that this blood-covered, hate-filled goddess in front of him used to be a psychiatrist at this facility until recently. Who was this woman Ivy had stumbled across? He had to learn more about her and find a way to keep her in his life… she was fascinating, and he had a feeling this retribution outlet was just the tip of the iceberg of what she was capable of. He smiled at her when she turned around and caught his gaze, unconsciously biting his bottom lip.

Ivy finally spoke up, bringing everyone back to the present, “Someone will have heard that gunshot… we should go. You okay, Harley?”

Harley nodded, looking herself over, completely forgetting that she had been shot. “Ah shit,” she huffed with annoyance when she glanced down at her thigh and saw how much it was bleeding. Natural shock started to kick in even though the bullet only grazed her, but it was deep enough that she’d need stitches.

Joker noticed Harley was swaying a little bit, so he ran over and helped ease her down to a sitting position; he tore open the bullet hole in her sweatpants a little bit, so he could take a closer look at her wound. It was bleeding pretty steadily by now, so he undid his tie and tied it just above the laceration, secretly enjoying the little irked grunt she made when he tightened the knot. His only concern now was getting them the hell out of there and back to Ivy’s place, where he knew she had various medical supplies.

Harley’s heart was beating fast now — not that she had been shot, so far that was just annoying, but because Joker was so close to her. His presence was electrifying and he smelled good… she shook herself out of her distracted state, but then started to feel guilty. It wasn’t her fault she had been shot, but now she was a wounded burden and it was likely she wouldn’t be able to keep up if they had much further walk; they probably only had sixty seconds before someone else came to inspect this hallway. “Shit, umm… just go, you guys, I can keep the other guards distracted,” she tried to keep the dejection out of her voice but it was difficult; the thought of going back into that cage was making a lump form in her throat.

Joker and Ivy looked at each other, and they both shook their heads while smiling; leaving Harley behind wasn’t an option. And no way Joker was going to take off without her, even solely for the fact that she’d be tortured even more after the staff would blame her for all the people he killed on his way in.

Harley slowly stood up (with Joker’s assistance) and tested how much weight she could put on her damaged leg. She leaned against the wall to take some of the pressure off for the time being while she watched Ivy scan the floor to find Griggs’s gun.

As Joker retrieved his knife, he recalled what Harley yelled before she spit at Griggs; he couldn’t fathom being a female locked up in this facility. While he wiped the blade on the guard’s pant leg, he spoke at the headless torso with quiet disdain, “It’s a shame you can only die once…”

After Ivy found the gun, she held it up awkwardly, wrinkling her nose as if it smelled bad (she was not a fan of these types of weapons, they were so unnatural). “Who wants this?” she asked.

Before Joker could vocalize that he’d carry it, Harley made grabby motions with her hands, squeaking excitedly, “Oh, gimme!”

After Ivy gladly handed over the gun, Joker was awestruck by Harley, watching her expertly eject the flush-fit mag and see how many bullets were left, then she locked it back into place and finished with a chamber check. When she was satisfied with her new toy, she tucked the gun into the back of her sweatpants. “Ok let’s go!” she declared, finally noticing Joker’s astonished expression that she had familiarity with firearms. She suddenly became flustered as her cheeks flushed; she smiled shyly, answering his non-verbal question, “Ah… my dad was a cop…”

It was too much for Joker to handle; he was speechless… again. He chuckled and shook his head in disbelief, then saw that Harley was favoring her undamaged leg. “Ok time to go,” he declared; without hesitation, he took a step towards Harley and hefted her up into his arms, carrying her ‘bridal’ style (allowing himself a few moments to pause and relish how soft she was).

Harley squeaked in surprise when Joker picked her up, then chuckled and happily wrapped her arms around his shoulders. The lump in her throat was back, but now for an entirely different reason; this close to him… touching him… he was deceptively strong.

The group suddenly heard a familiar, faint keycard beep noise at the opposite end of the hallway, so they swiftly power-walked to the exit door and stepped out into the crisp, fall air.

It had been a month since Harley had been outside; she almost got dizzy from the huge inhale of fresh air she sucked in. She blew it out with a loud sigh, making Joker chuckle at her (he knew exactly what she was feeling right now, having no fresh air in that sterile dungeon). He paused for a moment when he saw Ivy kneel down into the grass; he smiled and whispered to Harley, “Watch this…”

As a precautionary measure, Ivy thrust her fingers into the soil and inhaled deeply; her veins started to glow, slithering from her hands to taper off at her biceps.

Harley stared in amazement when she saw thick vines crawl out of the ground by the building, cracking through the cement and snaking up the door they had just exited from. The strands clung to the brick wall like velcro, essentially blocking the doorway so no one could get out. Once she was done barricading the exit, she stood up, shook out her shoulders and smiled lustfully from that mini recharge. Instead of brushing the excess dirt off her hands, she ran them over her forearms like it was lotion, then smiled at her companions and took off jogging towards Frost’s vehicle.

Joker followed her at a brisk pace while easily carrying Harley. He smiled when he heard Harley quietly say ‘holy shit’, admiring Ivy’s skills. During their sessions, Ivy had told her about what she could do, but until now she had never seen it in-person.

Frost was ready when the group arrived at his nondescript sedan; Ivy quickly opened the back door for Joker and Harley, then ran around the front and slunk into the passenger seat. “Hey, Johnny,” she greeted him jovially. He nodded his head at her respectfully, “Ivy.” Frost watched as Joker climbed into the back seat carrying a bleeding blond woman; he turned to look at Ivy and tilted his head. She just smiled back at him and said, “We’ll explain later.” That was all the answer he needed at the moment, so he called out after he heard Joker shut the door, “Ready, Boss?”

“Ready!” Joker called out happily. Frost hit the gas and sped down the service road that wrapped around the back of the asylum; once he turned onto a city street, he slowed down just a tad, so they wouldn’t draw any attention. The injured woman in the back seat didn’t seem like she needed immediate medical attention, per the way Joker and Ivy were acting, so he didn’t need to use any evasive driving maneuvers to get to their destination (a skill he picked up after years of being Joker’s right hand).

Joker shifted in the back once they took off, placing Harley delicately next to him on the middle seat. He tenderly looked over her wound and sighed with relief; it stopped bleeding thankfully.

Harley took his relieved exhale as a good sign and started to inspect the wound herself; it probably looked worse than it was. The bullet didn’t go directly through her muscle, but it was quite a deep cut. Having focused her PhD on psychiatry, she had minimal medical training, so she hoped Ivy or Joker knew how to stitch up a wound properly. The placement it was at (mid-thigh, on the side) would make it difficult for her to stitch it herself.

While Frost and Ivy discussed what roads to take to Ivy’s penthouse, Harley let her eyes wander from her wound up to Joker’s shirt. Her eyebrows furrowed into a pained expression, “I think I got blood on your clothes, I’m sorry…” She started to reach out to touch his shirt, but suddenly got shy pulled her hand back. Now that he had broken the physical-contact barrier, she felt compelled to touch him… he was like a magnet. But she assumed that he was probably not fond of casual touching; carrying someone who needed help was different than spontaneous contact, she told herself.

Joker’s pulse fluttered when he saw her reach out for him, but got confused when she pulled away, like she thought he wouldn’t like it. That pained him for some reason… people never touched him unless it was a physical altercation; but with Harley, his feelings were entirely opposite. To avoid dwelling, he replied to her concerned statement, “Pfft, if I don’t have blood on my clothes after a night out, then it was a shitty, boring time.” He smiled at Harley charmingly, hoping he had relieved some of her stress. Now genuinely curious himself, he continued, “Actually, I’m not sure if I can think of a suit I haven’t had blood on…”

Harley snickered and finally let herself relax a little bit; she removed Griggs’s gun from her waistband, placed it into the other seat and leaned back. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, she finally noticed the pain in her wrist; it was a bit inflamed, she saw, even in the dark car. (It was from an old gymnastics injury that must have gotten irritated from the Griggs bashing... totally worth it, she affirmed.) She absentmindedly grabbed her wrist with her other hand, applying some tentative pressure, confirming her theory that it was swollen.

Joker noticed her movement, not really aware that he was gazing at her, as if she’d disappear if he looked away. He slowly reached out and grasped her wrist with both hands, softly running his thumbs over her skin. “You ok?” he asked with concern.

“Yep, just an old gymnastics injury… it flares up if I aggravate it too much,” Harley replied nonchalantly, trying to ignore the distracting butterflies in her stomach that his touch was inducing.

Joker quirked an eyebrow, “Gymnastics?” His mind immediately drifted to wondering how flexible she was…

Harley smiled shyly and looked at her wrist. “Yeah, I had a scholarship to Gotham University where I got my PhD; that feels like a lifetime ago now…” she trailed off. Before she could elaborate, Frost had already arrived at the underground garage at Ivy’s building (traffic being non-existent in the middle of the night on a weekday).

After he drove in and parked by the penthouse elevator, Ivy turned around from the front seat smiling, “We’re here, kiddos!” Her facial expression turned bemused after she quickly glanced down at Harley’s wrist in Joker’s hands; she looked back up at Joker and tried unsuccessfully to hide her smirk. Joker noticed Harley was distracted by their surroundings thankfully, so he stuck his tongue out at Ivy, trying to hide the grin on his face, then gave Harley her wrist back.

Harley missed the warmth from his hand, but it was quickly forgotten after he got out of the car then ducked his head back in and held out his arms to her, “C’mon, Doc, let’s get you patched up.”

After she tucked the gun back into her pants, she scooted herself towards him, trying to hide her beaming smile and also keep her wound from brushing against the seat (though she figured Frost was used to cleaning blood off his vehicle seats).

Joker scooped her up again like she weighed nothing and pushed the door closed with his elbow. He turned and addressed Frost from the driver’s window, “Frost, meet Harley.” Joker lifted her up a little bit and Harley gave Frost a tiny wave, then re-laced her fingers together on Joker’s shoulder. He continued, “Harley, this is Frost, my right hand, loyal henchman, bodyguard, doctor, driver… all of the above!”

Frost nodded and smiled at Harley, “Nice to meet you.” He immediately took note of the weird, lovesick grin his boss had — the expression itself wasn’t weird, but seeing it on his boss’s face was.

Joker asked Ivy (who was at the elevator door entering her number code on a keypad), “Hey Pammy, what do you have for food up there? Rotten veggies?”

Harley snorted when Ivy gave him an annoyed glare. “I haven’t been here in months, so I’m guessing not a lot… we can order something,” she shrugged.

Frost chimed in, offering assistance, “Want me to do a food run, Boss?”

“Nah, we’ll just order,” Joker replied as he noticed the doors opening. “I think I’ll just… stay here tonight…” he trailed off, as if he didn’t want to admit out loud that he wanted to be around Harley as much as possible before inevitably going home.

Frost tried to hide his smirk; Joker was so obviously interested in Harley. “Sounds good, Boss, have fun,” he couldn’t resist giving Joker a tiny bemused smile that only his employer would notice. Since Harley was now watching Ivy at the elevator, Joker narrowed his eyes and scowled at his loyal friend (with no real threat behind it).

As the trio got onto the elevator, Frost drove off, still smiling about his boss’s new interest; he couldn’t wait to hear the whole story about where this blond woman came from, since him and Ivy didn’t get very long to chat in the car.

Ivy queried as the elevator swiftly shot up to her unit, “What food do we want?”

Harley spoke up right away, “Anything that’s not asylum food... or fish.” Joker chuckled and Ivy nodded in agreement, then offered, “How does pizza sound? There’s a decent pizza café around the corner; they deliver.”

“Warm, melty cheesy awesomeness… sold!” Harley stated gleefully while softly kicking her feet back and forth in excitement.

“Sold,” Joker happily reiterated.


	2. Regenerate

When the elevator opened up to Ivy’s unit, it wasn’t at all what Harley was picturing as a cliché criminal safe-house. It was very modern, like it had been furnished for an upscale home magazine, but it seemed like Ivy was trickling in her style slowly — plus there were plants everywhere! She told Harley she had conned the owner into giving it to her via her abilities, then convinced him to move out of Gotham forever. Harley loved hearing about Ivy’s ‘super powers’ as she liked to call them, which always made Ivy chuckle; she finally got to see a real-life demonstration tonight, too!

Once they were in the kitchen/living room area, Ivy took stock of her dying plants (though Harley noted they didn’t seem to have disintegrated as much as a normal plant would without water for a couple months).

“Ugh, sorry you guys, normally this place is so much prettier,” Ivy stated with wistful melancholy (as if her companions would even care about that minor detail instead of being offered much-needed refuge and medical supplies after a breakout).

Joker just ignored her; he was used to his faux-sister complaining about dead plants often throughout the years. When Harley glanced at him, he rolled his eyes in amusement at Ivy’s preoccupation, making her snicker. He carried Harley over to the kitchen island counter and placed her gently on top (but stayed right next to her). He felt a twinge of reluctance at losing physical contact with her… was that going to happen every time they weren’t touching, he wondered? It should have been irritating, but strangely, he felt the complete opposite about it.

Harley released her arms from around Joker’s shoulders, but slowly dragged her hand gently across his back in self-indulgence, which made her stomach pleasantly flutter. He didn’t seem to mind her touching him, she admitted to herself, so she was going to keep testing that theory.

Ivy wandered over to one of her taller plants and started petting it as if it was a puppy; Harley decided to snap her out of it since her wound was starting to burn. “Umm, hey Red, sorry to bother you, but… I’m kinda bleedin’ all over your kitchen.”

Ivy shook out of her depression quickly and irritably at the same time; she’d have to tend to her plants later. “Oh, yeah, let’s use the guest bathroom, all the medical supplies are in there.”

Joker happily picked up Harley again, smiling at the little squeak she made, and followed Ivy to their destination.

The en-suite bathroom was bigger than Harley imagined; she figured it could probably fit four of her apartment bathrooms put together. (That was if she even still had an apartment; her rent was on auto-pay, as were most of her bills, and eviction took months... oh well, she thought, she could deal with that later.)

While Ivy opened the cabinets to gather medical supplies and towels, Joker walked directly towards the sink and placed Harley on the countertop so she was able to lean her back against the wall adjacent. She tilted her head in confusion at Joker, since there was a stool nearby that she could probably sit on instead of the counter.

He answered her silent question, “It’ll be easier for me to stitch you up at this angle.”

Harley smiled in agreement, then took off her scrub top and tossed it on the floor; she removed the gun from her waistband and placed it by the sink, while Joker removed his suit jacket and tossed it over the Jacuzzi tub edge. Harley looked down at her thigh and wondered if she should remove the tie tourniquet yet; when she looked up to ask Joker about it, she became immediately distracted.

She stared as he rolled up his shirtsleeves past his elbows and unbuttoned a few buttons from his neck down; he then kicked off his shoes and removed his fun, colorful socks. Harley subconsciously bit her bottom lip — he wasn’t taking all of his clothes off, but her body started to react as if he was. Just seeing his forearms caused her chest to hitch; they’re just arms, she chided herself, then wondered what the hell was going on with her hormones tonight. Maybe it was just that she hadn’t been around a guy in ages… especially one that touched her in such a gentle and caring manner.

While Ivy was placing a towel under Harley’s wounded thigh, she noticed her watching Joker shed some clothing. Ivy smirked at her new friend; even before the explosion at work that altered both their lives (and looks) forever, women would stare at him no matter what he doing. But he was Jack back then, and now as Joker, everyone was just afraid of him.

Since their ‘chemical bath’, Ivy noticed him becoming more reclusive when he wasn’t causing chaos to irritate Batman. She wasn’t sure if he even had any interest in women anymore (though relationships were always a low-priority for him in the past, regardless). But when your looks change that drastically, she could empathize with him not making any effort in obtaining a partner or even just enjoying a one-night-stand. Gotham citizens reacted to their appearance like they were freaks to be gawked at or feared, so they both just decided to adapt to their new, adverse circumstances.

Harley glanced at Ivy and saw that she caught her staring; she smiled shyly and blushed, lowering her head in embarrassment. Ivy’s amusement grew when Harley ducked her head and pressed her lips together to hide her perceived guilt, so she went back to sifting through her medical bag so Harley could stare without an audience. The thought of her childhood friend and her new one hooking up pleased her greatly, and after Harley’s ordeal, she definitely needed a distraction from the PTSD she was likely going to experience over the next few months.

Plus, Ivy also preferred when Joker was relaxed; it made him less irascible and destructive. Not that she ever minded him pissing off Bats and stirring shit up, that would always be amusing, but he just seemed to be getting caught more often lately (or impulsively ending up in dangerous situations). Even though she was loathe to admit it, most people were better off when they had someone to share their hobbies with, and Joker needed a partner to keep him grounded.

After Ivy grabbed a small pair of scissors out of her medical kit, she went back to Harley and proceeded to cut open the pant leg on her wounded thigh. Ivy hissed when she saw the injury; she didn’t like using guns since she had the ability to control or relax people (or subdue them with foliage), so she was rarely ever shot at. She couldn’t believe that asshole, Griggs, smuggled a gun into a mental health facility! But what worried her the most, was hearing Harley curse at him after she was done turning his head into oatmeal. Ivy decided to ask her about it later, even though Griggs couldn’t suffer any more for what he did… it always helped to talk and purge trauma from your system.

Harley untied the makeshift tourniquet from her leg and gently hung it on a drawer handle below her (hoping it wasn’t ruined completely, she already felt bad about his suit, even though he said not to worry). Ivy handed her the scissors so she could cut the rest of her pant leg off completely. She tossed it onto her top on the floor, noticing how stiff it had become from dried blood. Having only one pant leg on felt awkward, so she got over her self-consciousness and just removed the rest of her pants. Now all she had on was the Arkham-issued sports bra, tank top and bikini-style underwear.

After Joker finished removing his socks, he turned back around to see Harley toss her sweatpants on the floor. He swallowed the lump in his throat, then forced himself to not stare at her bare legs like an idiot; he decided to busy himself with sifting through the medical supplies for a distraction.

Ivy studied Harley’s wound, honestly feeling very out of her element; she smiled at the idea of leaving these two alone so they could become better acquainted. She turned to address Joker, “Does the kit have everything you need?”

He shifted a few things around in the bag, finding the important items, and answered her studiously, “Looks like it.”

Harley watched Ivy walk towards the bathroom door and lean against the frame. “I have pain pills for you but you should take them with food; I’m gonna go order a variety of stuff. Just yell if you guys need anything…” Ivy noticed Joker was still pulling out supplies, so she caught Harley’s eye and winked at her with a smile, then left the room.

Harley’s brow furrowed and her eyes closed; she’d be lying to herself saying she wasn’t nervous being alone with Joker. It wasn’t that she thought he would hurt her whatsoever; it was just that they hadn’t exactly had time for an extended conversation. She inhaled deeply and let out a slow sigh to try and relax.

Joker placed a hydrogen peroxide bottle next to Harley’s leg and grabbed a washcloth from the stack of towels Ivy had piled up; he slid the stool up to the cabinets in front of Harley and sat down. Joker looked contemplative as he studied Harley’s wound… it was just a scratch compared to how much worse it could have been, but deep enough to require stitching. He was sure she’d heal pretty fast though, since the bullet didn’t puncture any muscle.

Harley saw him looking at her wound like something was wrong; she furrowed her brow nervously, “Is it bad?”

Joker looked up at her, catching her bright blue eyes with his vibrant green ones, and smiled. “No, not at all… you’ll have a scar, but it could have been so much worse,” he finished with sadness in his voice, pondering a future where Harley’s femoral artery was hit and she bled out in front of him. He didn’t even know this fierce, intense woman and yet, the thought of her dying so pitifully, trying to escape that shithole asylum, was aching his heart.

He soaked a washcloth with water from the sink, then placed it against Harley’s thigh and gently wiped around the wound, cleaning off the blood from her skin. Just being near her bare legs was making him nervous and excited at the same time; he had seen plenty of women’s thighs in the past, why was this one affecting him so heavily? He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, to clinically direct his attention to repairing her cut — her bloody, escape-induced gunshot wound on her gorgeous, sexy leg… dammit, this was going to be difficult! He could ask Ivy to do it, or call Frost to come back since he had stitched up Joker’s wounds countless times, but the thought of anyone else touching her displeased him.

Harley chewed the inside of her lip as she watched Joker wipe away the blood around her cut — he looked so focused, she thought, which made her smile. She couldn’t resist asking, “C’mon, why so serious?”

Joker smirked and chuckled, relaxing a bit. “Just trying not to hurt you…” he trailed off quietly.

Harley felt all sorts of warm fuzzies at his words that made her stomach flip; this was completely opposite of how the media portrayed him — an uncaring, mass-murdering, lunatic psychopath. Granted, he wasn’t tormenting Batman at the moment, but still… she wondered if anyone else, besides her and Ivy, got to see this side of him.

She watched him rinse off the dirty towel with water and go back to cleaning her skin; it was hypnotic — his methodical and gentle attention was easing her stress. She also noticed that even though they weren’t conversing, there was no awkward silence (just comfortable energy). She inhaled deeply and leaned back more against the wall, closing her eyes. She zoned out for a few moments, until suddenly a thought dawned on her, which made her chuckle out loud.

Joker snickered at her sudden amusement, breaking his studious concentration, feeding off her humor. “What’s so funny?” he asked with a genuine smile.

“It’s just that…” Harley furrowed her brow, as if she was still contemplating a difficult task. “A few months ago, I was a boring, law-abiding citizen with a PhD and stable career. Now I’m hiding out at Poison Ivy’s house after breaking out of Arkham, bloody and half naked, getting a bullet wound stitched up by the Joker.” She tucked both lips between her teeth, trying not to laugh too hard at the situation; it really wasn’t that funny, but with all the unreal events of the day (and the past month), reality sunk in and she couldn’t hold back.

Joker giggled right along with Harley; her laugh was sweetly infectious. Add to that, the combination of her spattered with blood, and disheveled hair and clothes… she was the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. He had to pause wiping her leg since she was vibrating so much from giggling. Joker mused, “That’s how life is… unavoidable chaos — it can change in an instant. You can make all these plans and think you’re in control, but one incident can change everything.” He finished wistfully, remembering his own evolution from a regular life to becoming the Joker.

Harley noticed the shift in Joker’s facial expression; she didn’t want to pry or have him think she was doctoring him. Before she could figure out what to say, Joker spoke up, “Ivy said they threw you in that cage cause you killed Dr. Arkham… interesting how the news said it was natural causes.” He smiled at her asymmetrically; he didn’t want her to talk about anything she wasn’t comfortable with, but he was vicariously curious about her first kill (especially since it involved someone he loathed and probably would have murdered himself at some point).

Avoiding the stressful details, Harley decided to give him the mini version. “Well, long story short, Dr. Arkham decided I owed him for giving me a job.” Harley continued, her voice laced with malice, “The polite term, I guess, is ‘attempted assault’…” After she paused to swallow the uninvited lump in her throat, she couldn’t avoid ranting, “So I did what any normal person would do, I defended myself; but apparently that’s grounds for your colleagues to lock you up because you’re ‘mentally unstable’ and ‘prone to violent outbursts’…” She finished the last part sarcastically, then noticed that Joker stopped wiping her wound and was looking at her with curious concern.

She chewed the inside of her lip and averted her eyes by smoothing the hair off her face; this was the first time she had spoken out loud about what happened (with someone other than her appointed asylum therapist, Dr. Strange, who had zero sympathy for her). She took a deep breath to fight back angry tears, but a rebellious one made its way out so she quickly wiped it away.

Joker was seething from seeing her distress, but was trying to remain calm, clenching his jaw instead. He took a breath to calm himself, then quietly asked, “How’d you do it?” If Dr. Arkham wasn’t dead already, he would have hunted down that disgusting cockroach and tortured him. Feeling protective over someone felt weird… but strangely satisfying at the same time, especially if it involved potential murder.

Harley composed herself and replied, “I stabbed him with a letter opener he had on his desk before it went too far; he bled out in like a minute.” She smiled smugly, reveling in being able to tell Joker that she killed someone, like it’d impress him… but why did she think he would care about that in the first place? Luckily, his facial expression eased her doubt.

Joker smiled with admiration while continuing to clean her skin; he loved that she was able to rid the world of that gasbag. He replied, “Damn, I wish I could have watched, it would have been beautiful.” His stomach fluttered when he saw Harley smile and blush.

Harley added curiously, “I guess Ivy felt bad for me… enough to get me out of there, at least.”

Joker hummed in agreement, then joked, “She just wants free therapy.”

Harley snickered, “She can have all the free therapy she wants.” Her tone shifted to serious while chewing her bottom lip, “I owe you guys big time.”

Joker shook his head, waving her off, “Breaking out of Arkham is our specialty; plus it was fun having a new partner-in-crime.”

Harley’s chest hitched when he said ‘partner’; it just felt… right… she couldn’t explain it, even though she was sure he didn’t mean it the way she was imagining.

Joker felt his stomach flip, realizing he said more than he had meant to; Freudian slip, he figured. He changed the subject quickly before he could process it further, “So… this is gonna sting.” He held the peroxide bottle up, then placed a dry towel below her cut to catch excess fluid. (He definitely cleaned the skin around her cut more than needed; she was just so soft and creamy… but he had to make himself stop at some point.)

Harley wrinkled her nose and sighed; she was no stranger to pain, but this was an injury she hadn’t experienced yet.

“Ready?” Joker looked up at her apologetically; when he saw her nod, he looked back at the wound and slowly trickled the liquid over her cut.

Harley hissed, growled, then laughed at how badly it stung; her hand nearest to Joker involuntarily reached out to grasp his shoulder for support. He tried to quickly flush out the wound even though he was highly enjoying her touching him, albeit because of her pain.

Once he stopped, Harley relaxed and exhaled deeply, then released his shoulder.

Joker happily stated, “So good news, I found lidocaine in Ivy’s bag; stitching gunshot wounds without it is un-fun.”

Harley chuckled, then couldn’t resist asking, “How many times have you been shot?” She tilted her head curiously.

Joker smiled at her inquiry, “More times than I can remember… maybe I’ll let you count my scars sometime.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at Harley, which made her snicker. He could watch her smile all day, he thought; he got up to grab the lidocaine and stitching materials, plus some purple latex gloves. He thought for a moment that maybe Ivy was doing some pheromone thing on him, which was why he reacting so intensely to Harley. Normally he reveled in the unknown, but this was throwing him off completely. She was so different from anyone he had met… but he was looking forward to getting to know everything about her.

When Joker sat back down on the stool, Harley couldn’t help but glance down at the few opened buttons on his shirt; she wanted nothing more than to unbutton it the rest of the way off and just stare… and maybe touch a little with her hands… and tongue, too…

Before her thoughts could embellish further, Joker held up the small thread kit. “Which color do you want, my dear?”

“Let’s do green to match your hair,” she decided right away. (Red was her go-to, but she figured it might be less visible with the inevitable blood.) She saw Joker nod shrewdly at her color choice, then snap on the purple medical gloves. Harley had to bite the inside of her cheek to prevent the barrage of fantasies that threatened to overload her mind. To redirect her encroaching daydream, she asked quickly, “Does Ivy normally have all these medical supplies?”

“Yeah, we both try to keep our various places stocked… neither of us can exactly go to a hospital willy-nilly.” He quickly sterilized her skin around her cut, then withdrew some lidocaine from the bottle with a subcutaneous needle. “Ready?” he queried.

“Go for it,” Harley stated, then watched him poke a few spots around her wound. She watched his forearms flex and shift enticingly while he injected her; she noted that they were hairless, instantly making her curious if he was like that anywhere else…

Joker unspooled a length of thread when he was finished with the injections and picked out a small sewing needle. He casually revealed, “One good thing about my glorious transformation…” He gestured at his head and hair, “…is that my skin is fairly numb, so I don’t feel pain like I used to, at least on the outside. Still hurts getting beat up by the Bat, though, especially when he cracks my ribs and bruises my delicate organs with his incessant punching. I think he has an addiction…” He giggled and rolled his eyes, but then scoffed suddenly, “Oh, but Pammy gets these fun super-powers with her transformation, and all I got was number skin… lame,” he ended with a petulant scowl.

Harley pouted dramatically with him, trying not to giggle, but she couldn’t help it. “You got the cooler hair, though,” she said while gazing at his head. One lock refused to stay slicked back with the rest; her hand suddenly twitched, so close to reaching out, but instead she clasped both hands together to resist brushing it off his forehead.

Joker genuinely smiled; he wasn’t used to someone giving him compliments with his appearance. “Hell yeah, I did,” he responded confidently. While threading the needle, he thought about how he had just opened the door to them conversing about what happened, even though Ivy was the only one who knew. He always told the Arkham psychiatrists he didn’t remember, or made up some crazy story if he was bored — his ‘chemical bath’ was no one else’s business. But with Harley… he wanted to tell her everything.

Harley snickered in response, then curiosity won out. She wasn’t sure how he would react to her asking about what happened, assuming he had been asked a million times by now (especially by Arkham doctors, which she used to be). She tried to keep the query friendly incase he didn’t want to elaborate, “Ivy told me it was some sort of explosion that resulted in her change.” She tucked her lips between her teeth, now nervous about what his reaction would be; he was the Joker, after all. His entire life these days was probably very private, but if he didn’t want to discuss his side of that event, he wouldn’t.

Joker offered her a sweet smile, sensing her apprehension, then inhaled like he was prepping for a long story. “I actually don’t remember that day at all, or the explosion, but Ivy told me what happened after I woke up at one of her doctor friends’ house,” he trailed off while testing Harley’s skin numbness, gently poking her a few times. “Feel that?” he asked; when she shook her head, he gently squeezed the top of the wound together and started stitching.

He continued, “I’m glad I don’t remember, actually, she said it was awful… like being in an earthquake and a gas chamber at the same time. We both worked at Wayne Chemicals; she was in the botany section and I was in the chem lab — different floors, but same side of the building. We don’t really know what happened, and the media reported it as a ‘chemical leak’; so for all I know, I caused it,” he snickered. “But Pammy is pretty sure it was her boss’s fault… apparently he was doing some sneaky side experiments on his own. The company covered up whatever the real story was; they said we both died in the accident. Later the place was renamed Ace Chemicals, or something…”

He looked up from his stitching to see Harley listening intently. (She made a point not to ask any questions, letting him direct how much he wanted to share with her.) Joker carried on boastfully, “Now here we are — both legally dead, looking resplendent, and doing whatever the hell we want.”

Harley pondered for a bit, then realized, “I spose I’m technically dead now, too… Dr. Quinzel, I mean.” She didn’t want to go back to her old life whatsoever, but she was still mourning it, in a way.

Joker noticed she seemed forlorn, so he tried to cheer her up, “You’ll have a lot more fun being dead, trust me.” He smiled and looked at her earnestly, pausing his stitching for a moment; it seemed to ease her anxiety. Reluctantly pulling his vision away from hers, he went back to stitching, trying to be as delicate as possible; he was proficient in this skill, but nowhere near an expert. He couldn’t resist joking, “I’m stitching my name into your wound, by the way.”

Harley chortled and looked down at his work, seeing regular stitches, “That’d be impressive, you should try that next time.” She furrowed her brow slightly, feeling a strange, fortuitous sensation that this wouldn’t be the only time he stitched her up. Her vision lingered on his dexterous, agile fingers, making her feel warm all over. He broke her concentration before she could start fantasizing about what else his fingers would be skilled at…

“I definitely will,” he said softly, while continuing his ministrations.

*

Meanwhile in the living room, Ivy tended to her numerous plants after having ordered food. She wondered how the medical treatment was going; she heard Harley laugh a few times, which made her smile that they were on par so quickly. Now she was curious if she could influence their decisions to be around each other more often.

*

“I think I’m done,” Joker stated; he tied a knot in the bottom stitch and leaned back to evaluate his handiwork. He chuckled when Harley squeaked ‘yay’ and clapped her hands lightly. “These bandages are waterproof, so you can shower with it on,” he attested, then grabbed a large patch off the counter and placed it over her stitches, lining it up and pressing down on the sticky edges tenderly. “I’ll wrap your wrist after you shower, though,” he added, noticing it was a bit more swollen. Joker stood up off the stool, disposed of the gloves in the trash, then offered Harley an arm to help her down from the counter.

She slowly lowered herself to the floor and tested the pressure on her leg. She looked up at Joker and nodded astutely, “All good.” She knew the lidocaine would linger for a while, so at least she could shower and walk around herself for a bit without physical irritation.

Joker went to the doorway but lingered for a bit. “I’ll go bug Ivy to get you some clean clothes; food should be here when you’re done,” he smiled. He was hesitant to leave, but snapped himself out of it; you can’t help her shower, he chastised himself. “Ivy keeps a stocked shower, but just… yell if you need something,” he gave her one last smile and a nod after she thanked him with her grateful eyes, then shut the door after leaving.

Harley chuckled and shook her head at how smitten she was, and how ditzy she was probably acting. She spotted Joker’s jacket still draped over the tub; she hobbled over to it and slowly ran her fingers down the sleeve, remembering how velvety it felt while he carried her. She just barely stopped herself from smelling it, rolling her eyes at herself, then went to turn on the shower.

As she shed the rest of her clothes, she made the realization that this was her life now — breakouts, gunshot wounds, famous villains… it was definitely the most exciting day she’s ever had in her life! The fact that she didn’t know if she still had a home, or money for that matter, wasn’t bothering her yet; she could figure all that out later.

She was going to live in the moment from now on… and right now, taking a long, hot shower in privacy was going to be heaven! Also pigging-out on real food and chatting with new, fascinating friends, was also heaven — best night ever, she thought happily as she stepped into the shower.

*

Joker went out into the kitchen to find Ivy cooing at her plants. He rolled his eyes amusedly and interrupted her, “Harley’s all patched up and taking a shower; I’ll take a quick one when she’s done. Oh, I told her you’d give her some PJs, too.” He opened one of the cabinets and grabbed a cup for water.

Ivy kept feeding her plants while replying, “Sounds good… food should be here soon.”

Joker leaned against the island counter, ruminating while sipping water. He kept glancing towards the bathroom… Harley was in there, naked, water dripping down her soft, creamy body. While tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he started imagining himself in there with her, running his soapy hands over every inch of her while she made delectable noises. He felt his groin twitch, so he snapped himself out of it, sharply inhaling a breath and chugging water for a distraction. He looked over at Ivy and squinted his eyes suspiciously, then pointed at her for emphasis, “Are you infecting me with your pheromones or something?”

Ivy looked up from her current plant with one raised eyebrow, then laughed, knowing exactly what he was irked about. “No… and you know full well that I need to touch or kiss someone for it to be as strong as what you’re feeling,” she smirked and gave him a smug (but playful) glare.

Joker looked troubled and shy at the same time; he asked her petulantly, “How do you know what I’m feeling, huh?”

Ivy snorted and rolled her eyes, “Both of you can’t stop staring at each other, it’s so obvious; and I’ve never seen you act this way before, it’s… weird.”

Joker chewed the inside of his lip, processing what she said. “Both of us?” he asked hopefully, raising his eyebrows. Ivy just smiled at him in response while moving over to another plant. He was about to ask her to elaborate when Ivy’s phone beeped, signaling the food arrived. He joked about killing her plants while she was in the lobby, then laughed when she gave him the finger and got onto the elevator.

He went back to gazing at the bathroom in peace, thinking about what Ivy said, that Harley was staring at him… it was achingly appealing.

*

Harley took advantage of the swanky shower she was in and decided to indulge. The asylum showers were pathetic — lukewarm water, cheap soap, stinky shampoo, dull electric razors and greasy lotion that made her itch. But Ivy’s guest shower had everything stocked, including a fancy razor and shaving cream; while washing her hair, she debated about shaving more than just her legs and underarms.

The excuse she finally decided on was that she wanted to feel as fresh as possible — a clean slate after living in that grimy hospital where she couldn’t exactly tend to her body like she preferred. Not that she expected anything was going to happen between her and Joker, but she just wanted to feel smooth and cleansed.

Fuck it, if she wanted to freshen up, then so be it — Harley Quinn did whatever she wanted and right now, she wanted to feel polished!

*

When Ivy came back up with food in tow, she set it down on the counter for Joker to sift through, and went to grab Harley some clean PJs. Hearing that she was still showering when Ivy went into the guest room, she set the clothes down on the edge of the bed and shut the door after leaving. Real showers after staying in Arkham for so long were one of Ivy’s favorite things, so she figured Harley would take her time in there.

Ivy went back to the kitchen and grabbed a sampling of food out of the containers to inhale. (That was another favorite post-asylum item — fresh, flavorful food.) While eating, her and Joker chatted a bit about Ivy’s time in Arkham, the current staff gossip, who Joker killed on his way in, and more. It eventually led to Ivy telling him about her sessions with Harley, and how right away Ivy sensed she was different.

“She’s very different…” Joker mused longingly.

Ivy half-joked in response, “So… when are you gonna make your move, Pretty Boy?” She laughed after Joker snorted and blushed. Ivy loved how off-kilter he was this evening, mostly because it was funny, but also because she was happy he was interested in another person besides Batman.

Joker sighed longingly, “Is she really interested in me, you think?”

Ivy smiled reassuringly at his ‘puppy-dog’ eyes, noting how atypically self-conscious he was; she decided to take pity and stop acting like a pestering sister. “I haven’t known her that long, but yes, it’s clear as day,” she affirmed. “Plus, I can cut both your pheromones in half with a knife, they’re that palpable… it’s making me dizzy,” she chuckled and shook her head.

Joker chuckled along with her, now feeling more confident that he wasn’t imagining Harley’s interest or making it up in his head. He wasn’t going to treat the situation like a conquest though, since he didn’t really have a goal in mind besides just wanting to be near her (and casually touch her more). While Joker changed the subject to asking Ivy what pheromones felt like, they both heard the guest room door open.

Harley came out braiding her damp hair over one shoulder, wearing red pajama pants and a black sleep tank. She wasn’t wearing a bra, Joker happily noticed, and took another bite of food to hide his pleased grin and avoid staring.

“How’d it feel?” Ivy asked Harley with a knowing smile.

Harley made a pleased grunt sound, then stated, “So good… felt like I had a layer of filth on me from that basement air.” Ivy and Joker both made concurring facial expressions and nodded their heads, knowing exactly what she meant. Harley joined them at the island counter and grabbed a slice of the nearest pizza, not caring what toppings it had; she took a huge bite, then closed her eyes and hummed, making her friends chuckle.

Joker popped his last bite of food in his mouth then got up from the barstool. “My turn to cleanse!” he declared while stretching his arms over his head. He addressed Ivy, “Are a bunch of my clothes still in there?” He gestured his head to the guest room.

Ivy nodded, “Yep, all stocked and clean.”

“Awesome,” Joker murmured. He looked at Harley, loving how refreshed she seemed (even though he equally enjoyed seeing her bloody and disheveled). He smiled at her ‘chipmunk cheek’ from inhaling her pizza (resisting the urge to poke it gently). “I’ll wrap your wrist after, if that’s ok?”

Harley nodded and gave him a thumbs-up since her mouth was full. Joker continued, walking towards the guest room, “Aright, ladies, make sure you talk about how stupendous I am while I’m gone.”

Harley snickered and watched him amble away, closing the guest room door behind him.

Ivy asked curiously in-between lasagna bites, “Did your wrist get injured?”

Harley swallowed her current bite and held up her wrist so Ivy could see. “It’s just inflamed from an old gymnastics injury… must have happened when I was teaching Griggs a lesson,” her eyes pinched to a glare as she finished off her pizza slice. She was already feeling full since she hadn’t eaten much all day from the anticipation of their pending escape.

Ivy offered Harley friendly support with a sanguine voice, “I heard what you said to him, after… if you ever want to talk about it… you can with me.” She gave Harley a soft smile, then added, “He tried some shit with me the first time I was in there, but he painfully learned that touching me isn’t good for his health. I would have killed him if they hadn’t tasered me…” Ivy scowled.

Harley’s expression changed from bitter to satisfied. “I hope whatever you did, it hurt him badly.” She shook her head and sighed, “He never actually touched me; it was all psychological...” Harley noted the slightly confused look Ivy gave her, so she continued (if she was going to talk to anybody about it, Ivy was the best choice), “He would tell me about all the things he was going to eventually do to me, and said it’d happen when I lease expect it, so I was always on edge. After a week of that, he started…” She paused to clear the lump in her throat. “…touching himself right outside my cell. Usually I’d wake up in the middle of the night to see him standing there, watching me… so then I made the hammock to get some privacy while I slept. It worked for a few days, but it escalated to him… finishing… through the cage bars.”

Ivy inhaled sharply as her eyes widened, pausing her chewing, “What the fuck… what the actual fuck?!?!”

Harley chuckled and gave her an agreeable look, “His noises were the worst part… sometimes they’d wake me up, but mostly I’d pretend I was sleeping and try to cover my ears.” Griggs was beyond dead now and unable to bother anyone again. Beating him to a pulp was SO satisfying! “So that’s why I got so angry,” she finished with a shrug.

“Jesus…” Ivy mused. “If I had known it was that bad, I would have tried to break out sooner,” she looked at Harley mournfully.

Harley just shook her head, “You got me out, it’s over… and I owe you big time, even though Joker said not to worry about it.”

“I agree, don’t worry about it… seriously,” Ivy asserted while smiling. “You got me out of the basement, that’s worth at least ten Arkham breakouts in my book!”

Harley would have teared-up if she hadn’t been so blissful after the shower and food; she chuckled and nodded her head. Changing the subject, Harley asked tentatively, “So… is that room technically Joker’s? Does he stay here a lot?”

Ivy smiled at her shyness, “Not a lot, but enough that he’s got clothes here if he needs to lay low for a few days… plus I have all those medical supplies and he’s usually pretty banged up after getting his ass kicked by Batman.” Ivy giggled along with Harley, then continued, “But I’ve got some stuff at his places, too. It helps to have multiple safe-houses and you gotta lay low for a few days... Bats is relentless when searching for us, it’s so annoying,” Ivy finished by rolling her eyes.

As the girls continued to nibble on food, Ivy summarized to Harley about her and Joker’s past, growing up as childhood friends, going to the same college, and eventually working at the same facility. She didn’t want Harley to think they were together or anything, just incase, though she figured Harley probably knew by now with the way they interacted.

When they both heard the water shut off from the guest bathroom, Ivy asked with a smirk, “So… you guys gonna share the bed?” She took an innocent sip of water after seeing Harley’s eyes widen.

Harley became reticent, “Ah… umm… do you think… he’d mind?” She clarified right away, “I don’t want to intrude in his space, if that’s usually his room…” She chewed her bottom lip nervously; sharing the bed with Joker sounded exhilarating, yet stressful at the same time because it had been ages since she slept in the same bed with a guy.

Ivy decided to stop sugarcoating; it was time for her to shove them both into the deep-end. “I think he’d love it if you joined him, especially since he can’t stop staring at you,” she chuckled when Harley looked at her incredulously.

“Really?” Harley asked optimistically, but still not believing he might be interested in her — he was infamous and she was a nobody.

Ivy nodded, “I haven’t seen him act this way before… it’s strange, even for him.”

Harley snickered, but before she could inquire more, Joker open the guest room door and came out grandiosely, “I’m baaaack!” He was wearing silky dark purple pajama pants and a maroon tee. Harley forced herself to not stare at him after he ran a hand through his damp hair and leaned against the counter.

Joker grabbed a pepperoni off the pizza that Ivy was closing up to put in the fridge; he popped it into his mouth and asked Harley, “Are you pleasantly stuffed?” She nodded and chuckled, not trusting herself to speak immediately after hearing Ivy’s recommendation for sleeping-arrangements.

Ivy and Joker packed up the leftovers while Harley wiped off the counter with her undamaged wrist. When they were done, Joker smiled at Harley charmingly; he held up a rolled ace-bandage and wiggled it, “Ready to wrap your wrist, Harley-poo?”

“Yes sir, Dr. J!” Harley smiled and saluted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up - smutty smut! Oh geez!
> 
> Ok I'm not in the medical field, so if there's nurses or doctors out there who notice something off, please let me know!


	3. Connect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first attempt at smut, and it's a lot harder to write than I realized, so I hope it's ok... let me know in the comments if you have any suggestions. But like the rest of my writing, it'll probably get better as I write more of it.

Harley instantly blushed when Joker plopped down on the couch and patted the seat next to him, smiling at her charmingly. She shuffled over to the couch and sat down with her legs crossed, facing him. Joker tucked one leg up on the couch to face her, while his other foot remained on the floor, sitting as close to her as possible without being imposing. Harley handed him her wrist, which he inspected to see where most of the swelling was located.

Ivy headed to her side of the penthouse where the master suite was, but paused in the doorway. “I left antibiotics and pain pills on the counter for you, Harley. The Amoxicillin you gotta take twice a day for a week, the Vicodin whenever you want, I got plenty to spare. I’ll dig up some more clothes for you tomorrow, too.” Ivy smiled at Harley when she thanked her, then couldn’t resist giving both of them a little jab regarding their sleeping arrangements. “Sleep well, kiddos,” she drawled with a smirk.

When Ivy saw that Harley wasn’t looking in her direction, she caught Joker’s eyes and gestured her head at Harley (indicating silently that he should ‘go for it’). After his eyes widened, he returned her suggestion by scowling and wrinkling his nose at her; he hid his unease by singsonging, “Good night, doctor Isley!”

Harley snickered and mimicked him, adding a friendly, short wave, “G’night, Red!”

Ivy chuckled while shaking her head, then retreated to her bedroom and shut the door gently behind her. She was going to take a long shower, or maybe a bath, then melt into her Egyptian-cotton sheets. Ivy had stayed at Arkham longer than she had anticipated; after Dr. Quinzel moved her to a proper room, it wasn’t as oppressive, and she wanted to get to know Harley better. Soon after, though, they locked her doctor up, so Ivy’s plans had to adjust.

Of course, she wouldn’t have been caught in the first place if Bats didn’t have new tech toys each time they battled. This time around, he had these electrified escrima sticks attached to his vambraces, and unfortunately, if he touched any part of her plant extensions, she felt it. Her abilities did continually improve over time, so she could keep up with him (for the most part), but it seems he figured out she was susceptible to tasers like anyone else.

Her new task was to remedy that problem before they crossed paths again…

*

Out in the living room, Harley was mesmerized watching Joker wrap her wrist delicately. Her cheeks were flushed, sitting this close to him and remembering what Ivy said, about him gazing at her all night. It didn’t help that her forearm was resting on his knee… he was so warm and smelled good, she was debating getting over her self-consciousness and making a move. Would he reject her, though? It’d be so awkward if he wasn’t into it, not to mention heart breaking. She scolded herself for starting to over-think the situation and went back to just enjoying the moment.

Joker was wrapping the bandage slower than necessary, relishing in how good she smelled and absorbing the warmth of her body. He wanted so badly to be enveloped by every part of her, to drown in her touch. They weren’t conversing after Ivy left, but the silence was comfortable, allowing Joker to get lost in his thoughts. His curiosity won out eventually, so he inquired, “Did you break it at some point, with your gymnastics stuff?”

“Luckily no, just sprained it really bad, but it put me on the bench for the rest of the season,” Harley pouted with a scowl. “I forget it’s even an issue, until I’m in a situation where there’s blunt trauma…” she trailed off.

“Like with Griggs?” Joker softly asked.

Harley chuckled, “Exactly. But that was SO worth it…”

Joker smiled maliciously, “Good. I heard rumors about how he treated other patients; after I broke his arm awhile back, he knew not to get to close to me.” He didn’t want Harley to elaborate on what Griggs did to her if she didn’t want to, or feel pressured into giving him details, so he steered the topic in a different direction while securing the end of the bandage.

“Watching you kill him was… beautiful,” he stated wistfully, then tucked his fingers under hers, turned her hand slowly and brought it up to his lips, gently brushing them against her knuckles. He continued, catching her eyes with his after he heard her inhale deeply from the intimate gesture, “I’ve never met anyone like you before, Harley.” She didn’t shy away from his touch, so he kissed her knuckles tenderly and closed his eyes; he sighed, at a loss for words, so he kissed her knuckles once more.

Harley just about melted into the couch when he brushed his soft lips across her hand; her heart was beating so hard, she was surprised her ribs didn’t crack. When he made eye contact with her, she became lost in the depths of his green irises, and by now, was aching for more of his touch. She swallowed the lump in her throat and tried to ignore the butterflies in her stomach after he softly kissed her knuckles a second time. Harley slowly shifted her hand from his and brushed her fingers across his cheek to cup his jaw, swiping her thumb across his bottom lip.

Joker opened his eyes and smiled as Harley moved her hand to the side of his neck and gently eased him towards her. There was no going back now, he thought, as he brought his hands up and softly cupped her face. They both closed the small gap between them and timidly kissed, as if they were testing the waters, taking time to memorize the texture of their lips, gradually increasing the pressure.

Harley placed her undamaged hand on his thigh, wishing she could touch his skin instead of the silky pants. She inhaled deeply, taking in his scent, but also because she was forgetting to breathe from excitement. She slightly opened her mouth to brush her tongue against his bottom lip, which opened the floodgates for both of them. Their tentative kissing turned into ardent passion — Joker plunged his tongue into Harley’s mouth, pulling her closer when she let out an involuntary whimper.

When she started to shift her sitting position up onto her knees, Joker wrapped his hands around her rear and pulled her over onto his lap, turning to put both his feet on the floor with his back against the couch. Harley placed her bandaged hand on his chest and wrapped her other one around the back of his neck, brushing her fingers against his short hair. She wanted to come up for air, but she couldn’t stop kissing him, as if she needed him to breathe.

Neither was in a rush to accelerate things quite yet, content in just absorbing the taste and feel of each other. Joker wrapped his arms around her, one resting at the small of her back and the other between her shoulder blades. He tenderly rubbed his thumb against her back as his mind dissipated into a haze, only able to focus on Harley; when the rest of the world melted away, she remained as his only tether.

Needing to feel her skin again, Joker slowly snaked his fingers under her shirt, brushing his fingertips over her velvety back, causing her to purr. Harley moved her hand up from his neck to run her fingers through more of his hair, dragging her blunt fingernails lightly over his scalp. Her groin pulsed when he made a contented growl in his throat, causing her to instinctively move further onto his lap. Joker shifted down slightly on the couch and pressed his hand flat on her lower back, helping her get as close as possible. When Harley got situated, she tilted her hips and finally pressed herself down against his erection.

Both let out a throaty groan of pleasure, their kissing evolving from passionate to possessive. Harley relished in feeling how hard he was for her, from just kissing; she undulated her hips ever so slightly, teasing them both, causing her body to shudder and breathing to hitch. Joker reached up to untie her braid, then ran his hand through her tresses while Harley wrapped her arms around his shoulders, trying to get even closer.

It still wasn’t quite enough to feed that ache inside her, so she ground her hips down on him a little harder, moving them faster. Joker sighed in response, but also felt like they couldn’t get close enough. To satiate his want, he grasped a handful of her hair and tilted her head back a smidgeon. He broke off their kiss to work his way down her chin, then to the side of her neck, nuzzling her jaw with his nose on the way.

Harley moaned when she felt his tongue lick her pulse; he alternated between gently biting and kissing, then traveled down to her clavicle. She tightened her hold on his hair and wrapped her other arm around his shoulders, pressing her breasts against his chest. She exhaled breathily when Joker removed his hand from her hair and slowly dragged one tanktop strap down her shoulder, continuing to trail his lips over her skin.

Harley loved the feel of his fingers caressing her lower back but needed to feel more of his touch; her thin, loose pajamas started to feel stifling. After Joker slid a strap off her shoulder, Harley decided to be bold and removed her hands from around his shoulders to grab the bottom of her tank. She slowly inched it up her body, waiting for him to pause the kisses to her shoulder when he realized what she was doing. She resumed lifting her shirt up and off, tugging her long hair through it, then tossed it to the other side of the couch.

Joker could be very patient when he wanted to be, often preferring to play the long game in any situation; but right now, it was taking all of his willpower not to carry her to the bedroom and tear both their clothes off. When Harley took off her shirt, he smiled and growled, then slowly kissed her neck again. He ran both his hands up and around her bare back, trying to feel every smooth inch of her, teasing them both by avoiding her breasts. When his lips reached her sternum, he paused and inhaled deeply, brushing his nose against her.

Harley grasped Joker’s hair again, while he drew one hand back to her waist, then up her ribs. He leisurely slid his hand up higher and gently brushed his thumb under her breast. Harley inhaled deeply, then hummed in contentment; she wanted him to touch her chest, but was enjoying the teasing torture at the same time. When Joker felt her hips twitch against his trapped erection, making him grunt, he couldn’t resist any longer; gradually he snaked his hand up to cup her breast, unsure if he had ever felt anything so soft and enticing in his life.

Harley tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and let out a gentle whine; his incendiary touch lingered wherever his hands had been. She arched her back to give him better access to her breasts when he started to kiss his way down her cleavage. While he slowly massaged one breast, he feathered his lips to the other and teasingly flicked out the tip of his tongue on her nipple. He chuckled at the aching grunt she made and felt her hand tighten in his hair. Obliging her, he ran his tongue up tantalizingly slow from the bottom of her breast and past her nipple. When Harley moaned against the top of his head, he responded with his own pleased growl.

Harley’s groin was throbbing with her heartbeat after he licked her; she suddenly needed to taste him again, to feel his tongue in her mouth. She grasped his hair and tilted his head back, then thrust her tongue into his mouth. Joker purred and continued to caress one of her breasts, tenderly pinching her nipple, loving the little grunts she made. Harley wasn’t sure how much longer she could resist only touching his clothed shoulders, longing to run her hands over every inch of his body to see what kind of noises she could pull from him.

Right when their kissing heated up again, they heard Ivy shut off the water to her tub. Both of them comically paused mid-kiss with their lips glued together, eyes glancing around the room, as if suddenly realizing they weren’t alone in the universe. Joker grunted in frustration, making Harley lean away from him a little, tilting her head in confusion.

“Hang on,” he commanded, then stood up, lifting her up off the couch with him. Harley squeaked in surprise, then giggled with him when he chuckled at her yelp. Harley tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and wrapped her limbs around him tightly while he carried her to the bedroom. After Joker shut the door with his elbow, Harley grasped his face with her hands, smiled and playfully licked his lips with the tip of her tongue.

Joker grinned, his eyes shining with lust, and gave Harley a primal growl as he swiftly walked over to the bed. He crawled onto it and attacked Harley’s mouth again with his, while shifting their bodies to the middle of the bed. Joker took advantage of her prone position and kissed his way down her neck to her breasts. He ran his tongue over one while kneading the other, listening to Harley’s delicious moans and heavy breathing.

Harley’s brain finally clicked that this was really happening — she was about to have sex with the Joker. It was like a switch was flipped and she was no longer hesitant or holding back; he gave her a confidence that she hadn’t experienced before. She closed her eyes and let herself fully relax, running both hands through his hair and wrapped her legs tighter around his torso. Her groin was throbbing by now and she wanted to feel him inside of her immediately. If it weren’t for her stitches, she would have flipped him over and torn his pants off, but the lidocaine was wearing off, and she didn’t want to pop them open and have to stop.

Joker needed more of her, to be enveloped in her scent, and taste her… he swiftly kissed his way down her stomach, listening to her pleased noises she was making. When Harley realized where he was headed, she released his hair and started pushing her pants down off her waist. Joker helped her, resisting ripping them off because of her injury, so he eased them down past her bandage, then swiftly removed them the rest of the way, tossing them aimlessly. 

He gazed at her beauty with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, then slowly kissed his way down her thigh to bury his face between her legs. Harley groaned loudly which made his erection throb; he lifted her good leg up over his shoulder and ran his tongue over every inch of her, flicking the tip when he reached her clitoris.

Harley was lost in pleasurable agony; she grasped his hair again and thrust her hips gently towards him. She focused on every detail of his tongue’s exploration of her, feeling him alternate between kissing, licking, and softly biting. He hooked one arm around her thigh and pulled her closer while his other hand snaked up her stomach to grasp her breast. Joker slid his tongue inside of her as far as he could and growled when she moaned long and loud, arching her back a bit. He chuckled when she punctuated her moan with a breathy curse, then snaked his tongue back up to her clit.

Harley was a writhing mess by now, aching for more of him, but at the same time, she wanted his face between her legs forever. All her thoughts completely faded away when Joker started sucking on her clitoris, gently pulling the bundle of nerves between his lips. Harley had never felt a sensation like this before, her previous partners not caring about her pleasure whatsoever. She cursed again and tightened her hold on his hair with her good hand, then grasped his hand that was on her breast, trying to ground herself from feeling like she was going to float away.

Joker smiled against her when she tightened her grip on his hair; he started to suck harder, listening intently to the fluctuations in her breathing. After Harley released his hand and clutched the bed sheet instead, Joker leaned up a bit on one forearm, pausing his attention on her clit to tease her opening with two of his fingers. When he heard Harley whimper, he slowly inserted his fingers inside of her, curling them and withdrawing slowly, brushing against her g-spot. His erection ached badly with every noise of pleasure she made.

Harley couldn’t think anymore; the only thing that existed was the feel of his ministrations on her body. Joker was loving watching her writhe when he reinserted his fingers into her; he wanted to be inside her so badly, but needed to hear her cum first. He slowly lowered his head to suck on her clit again, then alternated between stroking her g-spot and compressing her clit between his lips. Harley cursed again as her breathing started to truncate, feeling that delicious, familiar build up of pleasure. Joker increased his speed on both her clit and g-spot, alternating faster; he knew she was close from her breathing patterns.

Harley started to thrust her hips in time with his fingers, which drew a growl from his throat. Hearing and feeling the slight vibration from his growl pushed her over the edge; her body stilled and tightened as she floated on the precipice for a few moments, then came crashing down as her orgasm washed over her in warm, intense waves. She didn’t make any effort to keep her moans quiet as she steadily came down from her high, giggling towards the end at how powerful her climax was. Joker chuckled at her giggles as he kissed his way back up to her mouth. Harley grasped his face and kissed him softly, tasting herself on his tongue. She took her time running her hands over his shoulders and waist, then tugged at his shirt, needing to feel his skin on hers.

Joker took the hint and sat up, swiftly removing his shirt and tossing it behind him. He ran his hands up her thighs slowly, staring at the reposed goddess in front of him; her hair was fanned out, her eyes hooded and lustful, skin glowing from her climax plus the warm nightstand lamp. He wasn’t going to last long, he thought with disappointment; she was just too breathtaking.

Harley tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and ran her hands over his chest and stomach when he leaned towards her slowly, stalking her like a predator, his eyes burning with want. She growled in appreciation, admiring his chalk-white skin and toned form — like chiseled marble, she thought. She giggled when Joker leaned in and licked her lips quickly like she had done earlier. Her hands snaked up to his shoulders and back to his face, catching his eyes with hers, both burning with want.

“I need you,” she whispered as she moved her hands down his sides and tucked her fingers under the waistband of his pants. Joker growled after feeling his stomach flip from her verbal request; he captured her mouth with his desperately, while they both shoved his pants off his hips. Once they were past his erection, Harley cupped his member with her good hand and squeezed gently, eliciting an aching groan from him.

“Harley…” he hissed with a furrowed brow; she conjured feelings from him that he didn’t know existed inside himself, emotionally and physically. It was almost too much to handle; but one thing he did know, he didn’t want to be without her. He awkwardly, but quickly, shoved his pants the rest of the way off, losing them at the end of the bed. He dove back to her mouth and kissed her hard while she stroked him a few times, kissing him back just as intensely.

She teased them both by rubbing the head of his member against her saturated opening. When they both groaned into each other’s mouths, she let go of him and wrapped her legs around his waist. Joker slowly and steadily slid into her, both feeling each inch of him; Harley tilted her hips a bit so he could go as deep as biology would allow. They both broke off their kiss to moan and catch their breath.

Joker paused and didn’t thrust yet, needing to get his bearings; she was so warm and soft, his brain couldn’t processed the physical pleasure fast enough. Harley tightened her legs around him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, pulling him as close to her as she could, wishing they could meld together. Sex had never felt like this before with her previous partners, she mused, and he hadn’t even started thrusting yet!

Once Joker felt grounded enough, he slowly pulled back out of her almost fully, then gently eased into her again. Both of them shared a chorus of tantric breaths, moans and gasps as he maintained his slow thrust speed. Joker placed his forehead against hers and wrapped his hands around the back of her head, tenderly brushing her cheeks with his thumbs.

Harley whimpered and furrowed her brow; his slow thrusts were driving her mad with want, but at the same time, she never wanted it to stop. When he entered her again, she shuddered, having no control over her body’s reactions at this point. She removed her legs from his waist and planted her feet on the mattress so she could tilt her hips, encouraging him to go deeper and match his thrusts (as much as her stitches would allow). Her good hand ran up to grasp his hair while her other arm wrapped around his back, feeling the play of muscles as his body tensed and shifted.

After Joker felt Harley shift her legs to thrust with him, he couldn’t keep up the slower pace; he increased his speed gradually, hearing their flesh smack together, along with Harley’s increasing pants. He went back to kissing her fervently, encompassed by her delectable noises that fluttered his stomach.

When Joker leaned up on his forearms to get more leverage, Harley moved one hand to grasp his shoulder. Her other hand snaked between them down to her groin; she indulged for a few moments, spreading her fingers to feel where their bodies met, soaking in her fluids. Her fingers slid back up to her clitoris where she began rubbing slowly, needing to relieve some of the dense pressure that was starting to build. Every intricate sensation she felt, along with hearing his growls and groans, was building up quickly.

Harley wanted so badly to change positions and fuck him every which way, but she knew that would only increase her aggression and tear her stitches. She’d just have to experiment next time when she was more healed, if he still wanted to be with her, that is.

When Harley started rubbing herself, Joker knew he’d never be able to hold back if she climaxed. He maintained his steady, firm thrusts until he heard Harley’s breathing evolve; her deep inhales and throaty whines fed his desire to slam into her. He kissed her once more, then braced his hands on either side of her head. He increased his thrusting speed, slamming into her, causing her breasts to bounce with each slap of flesh.

Harley’s climax was approaching fast, even though she wanted to feel him pound into her until the world ended. “J… harder,” she pleaded, her grip on his shoulder tightening. He growled in response as he rammed into her hard and fast; he grabbed her good leg and hooked it under his arm, tilting her pelvis more so he could go deeper, plus bring his body closer to hers.

That angle change, his growls, and increased speed was what Harley needed; as she came, her eyes rolled back into her head and she groaned long and loud, pressing hard on her clit, focusing on the feel of him fucking her with primal passion. Both their moans and reflexive grunts faded into the background of her mind as white noise; nothing else existed except them and the abject ecstasy she was high on.

Joker had been resisting climaxing for what felt like ages; when she begged him to go harder, he nearly lost it, but thankfully she climaxed shortly after. The first clench of her muscles contracting around his cock wrenched his orgasm from him; he couldn’t have held back if he wanted to. He snarled and pitched himself forward, burying his face into her neck, groaning loudly and thrusting a few more times, slowing as he came down.

Both were trembling and shuddering from their shared climax aftershocks, lost in a haze of bliss. Harley straightened her legs, dropping them fully onto the bed; her one arm was trapped between them, but she didn’t care. Both took what seemed like forever to catch their breath, but once they did, Joker slightly lifted up so she could remove her arm. She gently ran her fingers over his sides, feeling his diaphragm expand around his ribs. She had never climaxed so hard during sex before, let alone twice, and she hoped this wasn’t the last time they’d play. She had so many more things she wanted to do and try out with him; she smiled once reality dawned on her that she just had sex with the Joker. Scratch that, she thought, it still didn’t seem real…

Joker wanted to lie on top of Harley forever, to be lost in her scent and warmth until the world exploded. He shifted up onto his elbows and cupped her cheeks, staring into her hooded blue eyes. He smiled when she made a pleased, throaty hum, then leaned in and kissed her sweetly. There were so many things he wanted to say to her, but decided not to right now; it’d just come out as gibberish from his sex-addled mind. After a few moments, he reluctantly shifted off her and pulled out, both grunting from their over-stimulated bodies separating.

Harley started to turn and face him but forgot about her stitches; she hissed after feeling a slight pinch, “Dammit, I guess the lido wore off.” She rolled onto her other side, pulled her disheveled hair over one shoulder, and scooted back against Joker’s chest. He tugged her closer and hummed in agreement, then lightly kissed the nape of her neck. Harley figured they should clean up at some point, but neither wanted to move yet. She placed her arm over his that was wrapped around her waist, and reticently laced her fingers through his. She felt shy at instigating such an intimate gesture, even though they had just had sex, but luckily he reciprocated.

“Your leg ok?” Joker whispered. “I distracted you from taking your pills,” he chuckled.

“Yep, you did…” Harley snickered, then grunted lightly when she realized they were still out in the kitchen. “I’ll go get them later,” she murmured.

“I’m gonna get them now, before we both pass out,” he decided. Joker didn’t want to get up, but he knew if they lay there any longer, they’d both fall asleep. It took all his strength to detach himself from Harley and climb off the bed; he waved off her protests that he didn’t have to do this chore for her. He threw on a pair of boxers he dug out of a drawer (Ivy and him were close, but not that close to being comfortable buck naked around each other).

He quickly popped into the kitchen and grabbed the pill bottles off the counter, then filled up a large Nalgene. He slipped back into the bedroom and shut the door, placing the water and pills on Harley’s nightstand. She sat up sidesaddle to take the pills, naked and gorgeous, her hair still delectably unkempt. He popped into the bathroom to clean himself off, then wet a washcloth for Harley to do the same.

Harley couldn’t keep her eyes off Joker when he returned; she gazed at him when he retreated to the bathroom to grab a towel for her. It was such a simple gesture, but created a small lump in her throat; she wasn’t used to a guy being so kind or generous to her. According to Gotham, the Joker was supposed to be a horrible, selfish psychopath… yet here he was, making sure she came during sex, then brought her water and a towel afterwards. Comparatively, every guy Harley had been with in the past was a complete asshole.

She smiled to herself at the atypical situation and chugged the water, taking an antibiotic and vicodin in the process. She was smoothing down her hair into a low ponytail when Joker returned, handing her the cloth. He gathered their strewn clothes while she did a few swipes on herself with the towel; it was startlingly cold, but felt great after the heat-inducing friction. When she was done, she tossed the rag into the bathroom where it landed with a splat on the tiled floor. She snickered at the noise, then asked Joker if he could toss her the underwear Ivy left out for her that she skipped after her shower.

Joker placed their discarded clothes onto the chair nearby, then sling-shotted the underwear at Harley, making her chortle when they hit her in the face; she shimmied into the red bikini briefs and crawled under the covers. Joker joined her and they assumed their previous post-coitus spooning, him holding her firmly as if she’d disappear. They passed out shortly after getting settled, leaving all of their thoughts and revelations unsaid.

***

Throughout the night, Harley and Joker slept in various positions comfortably. The pain pill pleasantly knocked Harley out, so she didn’t wake very often, but after four hours, her thigh and bladder were harassing her respectively. Luckily, Joker wasn’t velcroed around her like when they first fell asleep, so she sneaked off the bed and hobbled to the bathroom quietly.

After she relieved herself, she cleaned up their excess, shared fluids a bit more with a washcloth, then headed back in the bedroom. She took another pill to sleep uninterrupted and crept into bed, noticing Joker had rolled over to face her side when she was absent.

“All good?” he asked sleepily.

“Definitely,” Harley whispered her reply. She lay on her good side once again and scooted back to press against his chest, fitting perfectly, like they were made for each other.

Joker had panicked for a split-second when he woke up, half asleep, to feel Harley’s side empty, but relaxed once he heard her in the bathroom. His dreams were filled with her presence — they were both fighting Batman together, as if they had been all this time, perfectly in sync. She was bloodied and battle-bruised, laughing and smiling with a wild glimmer in her eyes (like when she killed Griggs). She was like a drug… he had had a taste, and it was extraordinary, but only left him desiring more!

Once she crawled back into bed and he felt her warmth, plus smelled her natural scent, his body started to react of its own accord. He chuckled internally that he had no control over himself; he was hers to play with any time she wanted, and he found that he loved that.

Harley was more awake now from her bathroom break, feeling contented and relaxed, enjoying Joker’s thumb brushing over her ribs back and forth just under her breast. When she scooted back closer to him, she giggled softly when she felt his slight erection. She couldn’t resist rubbing her rear against him just a tiny bit, savoring his embrace.

Joker heard Harley’s giggle and hummed when she brushed herself against him. “Sorry,” he sleepily apologized with a smile. “It’s just what you do to me…” he continued, then rubbed his lips on the back of her neck, kissing her lightly.

Harley smiled, loving that she was giving him that reaction without making an extensive effort to ‘be sexy’ like with her previous lovers. They never seemed to appreciate her no matter what she did… but with Joker, she just felt like herself, she didn’t have to prove or be anything beside her. She also felt braver than she had ever been as Harleen Quinzel; now as Harley, she had more confidence and less anxiety about everything, not feeling pressure to do what she was supposed to do, according to society (i.e. go to college, get a career, find a man, get married, pop out babies, etc.). Live in the moment, she thought… just sit back and enjoy the ride.

She gently placed her hand over Joker’s and guided it up to her breast; his responding growl made her groin twitch. She could feel him getting harder against her ass, which in turn, made her walls contract. She rubbed herself against him while he massaged her breast and gently feathered kisses across her neck and shoulder. She was already wet and squirming with want, and he was barely touching her. Their previous romp left her deliciously sore, not having had sex in awhile, but it didn’t matter, she wanted — no, needed — him again.

Joker couldn’t resist verbalizing his thoughts, now that he was more awake and aroused. “You’ve crawled inside my veins, Harley… I can’t think about anything else,” he purred.

Harley let out a breathy exhale after hearing his confession; she removed her hand from his and hooked her thumb under her panties, swiftly shoving them down off her body and legs. Joker stopped rubbing her breast and jostled out of his boxers (stuffing the sheets to the end of the bed at the same time). He peppered her shoulder with gentle kisses and licks, then tucked his other hand between the bed and her body, cupping her breast and teasing her nipple with his thumb. He slid his other hand along her thigh, up to her hip, then slowly ran it down to her stomach and between her legs.

Harley gasped when he massaged her clitoris; he was becoming familiar with her body, she happily mused. She squeezed her thighs together and rolled her hips, encouraging him to rub harder. He complied as he pressed his member between her butt cheeks, slightly thrusting in time with her undulations. Joker growled as he kissed his way back up to her neck, then gently bit down on her pulse and sucked.

Harley moaned and grasped the back of his head with her free hand, running her fingers through his mussed hair. Since her body was hypersensitive from sleep, her patience was non-existent; the aching need she felt for wanting him inside of her took over — only he could remedy it. She clenched her thighs together one more time, then lifted her leg and hummed in need.

Joker chuckled at her impatience, fully enjoying her paralleled desire to be connected. He removed his hand from her clit and shifted his position, grasping his erection and placing it between her legs. After coating the head in her abundant fluids for a few seconds, he slid into her without hesitation. They both moaned when he slipped into her soft, welcome opening; his grip on her breast tightened and his other hand moved to seize her hip. He thrust into her deeply, burying his face in in the crook of her neck.

Harley placed her bottom hand over his that was on her breast, then removed the one she had in his hair to rub wide circles over her clit in time with the snap of his hips. Joker growled into her neck as he watched her touching herself, then increased his speed and depth. She was so warm and wet, and felt incredible; he had to close his eyes to prevent from coming too soon.

Harley tilted her pelvis a bit so he could go deeper to brush against her g-spot; she rubbed her clitoris harder and faster. Joker’s hand gripped her hip almost painfully, but she loved it, and it only fed her building desire more. His fingertips would definitely leave bruises on her pale skin and she couldn’t wait to see them in the morning.

Joker heard Harley’s breathing shift and he felt her increased wetness on his cock; he kissed his way up to her ear and flicked his tongue out to lick her lobe teasingly. He growled, “Cum for me, Harley… I want to hear you moan.” He punctuated his request by licking her neck slowly.

That was all Harley needed, Joker’s voice in her ear, purring a command that sent her over the edge. When her orgasm hit her, she clamped her thighs together and groaned as her walls clenched around his erection. Goosebumps rose up over her body when she felt and heard him climax with her while he bit her trapezius.

Joker pressed himself as deep as he could with his climax, thrusting in uneven twitches as her walls compressed around his member. They both trembled as they came down from their ecstasy while trying to catch their breath. Harley eventually let out a pleased, throaty hum, which caused Joker to sigh in agreement.

After pulling up the covers, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her tighter to him. Neither had the energy to clean up again, so they both just drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next up - the morning after, plus Harley gets to see a bit of Joker's life.
> 
> *Used a modified quote from Endora’s ‘Dr. Kerr’ story. ❤️


	4. Meetings

Ivy took a long, luxurious bath (with some conveniently placed Jacuzzi jets) and slept uninterrupted. Arkham was always so noisy, not to mention uncomfortable, so her first night back at home she was pretty much comatose. Once Ivy finished her usual morning meditation, she cleaned up, then bundled her long red hair into a low bun. She threw on a green tee and gray sleep shorts, then ambled out of her room.

As she was wondering what the group might want to do for breakfast, she spotted something on the couch; her surprised smile turned into a smug one as she walked into the living room and grabbed Harley’s discarded tanktop off the cushion. Good for them, she thought — but so sad for J, cause now she had fodder to pester him today.

*

When Joker woke up after sleeping heavily for the first time since he could remember, Harley’s steady breaths nearly had him passing out again. He was lying on his back with the sheets tangled around his legs; Harley was lying on her side curled up next to him. Luckily she wasn’t wrapped around him, so he could get up without waking her. She looked completely at peace, and definitely in need of all the sleep she could get her first night away from Arkham. And no doubt she was physically depleted, thanks to him, he thought with a smirk.

Joker slid quietly off the bed and covered Harley more with the sheets, then popped into the bathroom to freshen up. After dressing in last night’s PJs, he grabbed his dirty suit to prep for dry-cleaning. Frost had found an excellent place that cleaned all his stuff well, and never asked questions about the blood, gunshot residue, or miscellaneous Batman-fighting debris and damage that was inevitable.

He snuck out of the bedroom and headed to the kitchen, wondering if Ivy was up yet so they could discuss much-needed sustenance. For a moment, he pondered making Harley breakfast, but it was so much easier just to order food (especially when you were a wanted asylum escapee and couldn’t exactly pop down to the grocery store).

Joker was fishing through his suit jacket pockets for his cell to text Frost when he wandered into the kitchen. He spotted Ivy on the couch with her feet propped up on the coffee table, sipping what was probably some stinky herbal tea and watching the news on a low volume. (The media always got wind of any villain’s escape from Arkham, no matter how much they tried to keep it quiet, to avoid creating public panic. But would they report about Harley, was the real question, since admitting she was incarcerated would belie their story about how Dr. Arkham died.)

He draped his rumpled suit over one of the island barstools and leaned against the counter. News anchor, Vicki Vale, was reporting on a fluff piece at the moment — the zoo’s recent litter of hyena cubs. Joker’s mind started to drift, wondering how he was going to ask Harley if she wanted to join him and play with Gotham and Batman, as partners, when Ivy startled him out of his thoughts.

“Good morning… did you sleep well?” Ivy asked, looking at him with one raised eyebrow and a shit-eating grin.

Joker shot her a suspicious glare and tilted his head, “Maybe… why?” The hint of a smug smile emerged on his face; he knew she knew, but not sure how… maybe they were too noisy. His tiny smile was turning into a full one quickly; his and Ivy’s banter was always a competition of who had the best information first. Before he could blurt out anything to get ahead of her, she tossed a black tanktop at him, which he deftly caught.

Ivy queried teasingly, “How was the free therapy? Did you guys… dig _deep_? Talk about the _hard_ stuff? Did you go the _full_ hour?” Ivy chortled when Joker scowled, trying to hide his beaming smile; his cheeks reddened, standing out clearly on his unique complexion. “That’s all I could think of on short notice,” Ivy admitted disappointedly.

Joker wrinkled his nose at her, fully intent on winning this bout, “Well, if you really wanna know — yes… yes… and we had _two_ sessions. In fact, let me tell you, she did this thing with her tongue…”

“Ack! Ok fine, you win, I don’t wanna know, gross,” Ivy conceded, shaking her head before he could continue. “But good for you guys,” she smiled genially, which only served to increase Joker’s blush.

He gave her a sheepish smile, then draped the tanktop over Ivy’s head, making her snicker. After Joker poked around the fridge for cold pizza to nibble on, he texted Frost to pick up breakfast for all of them, which Ivy happily agreed to.

*

Harley slowly woke up, processing for a second where she was before her brain embraced her surroundings. She smiled dreamily while stretching her whole body out, hearing a few bones crack, but winced a bit when the forgotten stitches tugged. Joker’s side of the bed was empty, but she figured he’d be up before she was because of her drug-induced sleep.

She sat up with a grunt, then chugged the rest of the water on the nightstand. Before putting the bottle back down, she touched her nose to her forearm and inhaled deeply; Joker’s scent was still immersed on her skin, making her stomach flutter. Harley smiled, then slinked off the bed and headed to the bathroom naked. When she saw light bruises that were manifesting on her skin, her smile widened, hoping they would add more to the canvas soon.

After cleaning up from their second romp, she ponytailed her hair, then happily spotted a brand new red toothbrush placed by the sink. Her mind automatically drifted while she brushed her teeth, thinking about next steps — how long would Ivy let her stay here; was her apartment still intact; was her bank account still active; what would she do for money now…

Harley shook her head and forced herself to stop over-thinking; at the very least, Ivy seemed protective of her, so she probably wouldn’t just shove her out the door with nothing. As for the rest, one step at a time, she concluded. After rinsing her mouth out, she spotted Griggs’s gun still on the counter, making her stomach knot. When she killed him, the thought about keeping it as a trophy of sorts, felt great; but now, she just wanted to see it destroyed like its owner.

Once she finished freshening up, she spotted her pajama pants on the chair where Joker had put them last night, noticing right away that his suit was gone. A dejecting thought blitzed her mind — he probably left… all that stuff they did last night, and the things he said, didn’t mean anything. They all leave, she recalled bitterly; guys never wanted to be with her, they just wanted a taste. Once they got what they wanted, she was little more than a number on a headboard. Too bad it took her a few assholes to finally recognize the pattern…

‘Stop it!’ she reprimanded herself; this over-analyzing habit that kept seeping back into her new life was irritating. As she glanced quizzically around the room for her shirt, she remembered it was still on the couch from last night. A light blush crept up her face; Ivy probably saw it if she was awake by now. Harley nervously wondered what her new friend would think about the whole situation (though it was just her shirt, not blatant evidence of them having slept together, and Ivy was the one to recommend they share the bed in the first place).

Now needing a shirt, Harley took a chance and peeked through a few drawers that had Joker’s stash of clothes; she found a dark blue tee that was pleasantly baggy on her smaller frame and was imbued with his scent. After slipping it on with a satisfied grin, she limped out of the bedroom, trying to keep some pressure off her leg.

Relief washed over her immediately when she saw Joker sitting on the couch next to Ivy — he was still here! They were glancing at the news as well as swiping through a website on an iPad. Harley caught just the tail end of what Joker was saying to Ivy as she meandered towards the couch. “What about something like this? She’ll need an outfit that’s flexible, for her gymnastics skills...” Ivy seemed to agree positively with whatever they were looking at.

“Morning,” Harley shyly interrupted.

Ivy grunted when Joker tossed the iPad into her lap, then practically vaulted over the couch to Harley. Right after she reflexively leaned back, he tucked his arms under her rear, lifted her up and kissed her tenderly. Harley squeaked when he first picked her up, then giggled into the modest kiss and wrapped her arms around his shoulders for support. Joker kept their embrace short since Ivy was in the room, even though his back was to her and she was facing the other way.

He placed Harley back on the floor and cupped her face, running a thumb over her cheek. “Morning, sweets,” he purred.

Harley tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and leaned back a tad, then gestured to his shirt she had on. “I um, didn’t have my top… I hope this is ok. I can change though, if you want,” she offered bashfully.

“Don’t you dare,” Joker replied, gazing at her lustfully. “That’s definitely your shirt now,” he whispered. There was something about her wearing his tee that was beyond appealing… it just felt… natural. He wanted to kiss and touch her more intensely, but they had an audience, so he contented himself with visual caresses.

Harley’s smitten brain couldn’t keep up with his attention; all she could muster was a soft ‘okay’ in reply. Joker smiled at her charmingly, then picked her up and carried her to the loveseat by the couch.

“Frost is bringing us breakfast; he’ll be here any minute,” Joker informed her as he sat down and started re-wrapping her wrist.

“Sounds good, I’m starving,” Harley mused.

Ivy spoke up nonchalantly while sipping her tea, “I bet you are...”

When Harley glanced over at her, Ivy winked, making Harley’s pale cheeks flush; she giggled and covered her eyes with her free hand, then ducked her head in embarrassment.

Ivy laughed, “Sorry, that’s the last time I’ll bug you guys… promise.”

Joker snorted and smiled softly, not pausing his wrapping task. “She’s lying,” he stated matter-of-factly.

Ivy scoffed at him dramatically, but then conceded, shrugging and nodding her head with a smile, “I am.” She went back to swiping through sites on her iPad, giving them some perceived privacy.

Joker finished up with Harley’s wrist, then asked about her stitches while brushing his fingers over her knee, “How’s your leg?”

“Good, I think; just a dull ache right now, as far as pain,” Harley answered. Joker thoughtfully hummed, which she interpreted as a good thing.

Ivy glanced over at the two disgustingly cute lovebirds with a smirk, then went back to browsing costume ideas for Harley. Joker loved the thought of a harlequin-style outfit for her, to pair with his aesthetic, and Ivy agreed; they’d complement each other well.

Joker suddenly felt the urge to be closer to Harley, needing to touch her more, since stroking her knee wasn’t enough. “We should change your bandage before we eat,” he stood up and offered her a hand. “And I want to marvel at my medical prowess,” he declared smugly.

Harley smiled and took his offered hand; once she stood up, he picked her up again and carried her to the bathroom. He was always so warm and smelled good, she mused… it was intoxicating. Her bandage probably did need changing, but she assumed he also wanted some alone time with her, just as she desired, too. This was the best ‘morning after’ she had experienced in her life, and it had only been a few minutes!

Once they got into the bathroom, Joker pushed the door almost closed with his elbow (leaving it unlatched) and sat Harley on the counter with her feet dangling off the edge. Right when he put her down, both of them instantly grasped each other and delved into a passionate kiss. Harley’s arms wrapped around his waist while Joker cupped her jaw, their tongues dancing softly.

Joker’s quiet growl drew a needy moan from Harley as she tucked her hands under his shirt to feel his back. Her fingers traced his ribs, then traveled to his stomach, brushing over a few scars in the process (which she hadn’t noticed in the low bedroom light the night before).

Joker wanted to pull their clothes off and embed himself inside of her, to be absorbed in her warmth and energy, but knew they only had a few minutes. Instead, he focused on her hands roaming over him… he never would have expected that just some light touch would feel so potent.

He moved his hands from Harley’s jaw to her lower back, pulling her closer to him, pressing her pelvis against his erection. She growled and slid her hands up to his pecs, then gently ran her nails down his torso. Joker hummed with pleasure, trying to pull her even closer, running one hand up her side to cup her breast.

Just as Harley started to tuck her fingers under his waistband, they heard Ivy call out from the living room. “Food is here! Put your clothes back on!”

Harley and Joker stopped kissing to snicker and catch their breath, touching their foreheads together. Harley bit her bottom lip and grunted; she could feel how wet she was already, just from kissing and barely touching.

“Mmhmm,” Joker replied, concurring with her frustration and sighing. He peeled himself away from her and found a breathable bandage from the medical bag. Harley bunched up her pant leg past her wound and pulled off the old patch slowly, wrinkling her nose at the sting of her skin being pulled taut.

Joker scrutinized the stitches a few moments, then taped the new patch in place. “Should be healed in no time, thanks to my awesomeness,” he stated happily. The sooner she was back to normal, the sooner they could play! He helped Harley off the counter and acquiesced to her protests that she could walk herself this time, though not without pouting at her dramatically (which Harley thought was probably the most adorable thing she’d ever seen).

He wanted to chat about her living situation, but warm food was priority. He and Ivy had talked about it a bit before Harley was up, both feeling the same regarding his thoughts on giving her a taste of their lifestyle. The former doctor would definitely love the chance to run around Gotham doing whatever she wanted, pestering Batman, the GPD, and the mob — each day being open to limitless possibilities.

Ivy and Joker both fully agreed that being legally dead was pretty fucking amazing!

*

Back out in the kitchen, Ivy and Frost laid out an assortment of breakfast foods he picked up from a diner nearby. As the group ate (with Joker and Harley touching knees under the counter), they discussed Harley’s living situation. Since Ivy had to go check on her other places (her plants mostly), Joker offered for Harley to stay with him, if she didn’t want to stay alone in the penthouse; she happily and readily agreed to that arrangement, much to Joker’s delight (and relief).

Frost reminded Joker that they had a drop-off meeting planned at the warehouse, so they should stop there first before going to his main residence (and he had a small group of loyal people he wanted Harley to meet there anyway).

Harley took the opportunity to bring up her old apartment, saying the only thing she really wanted to get were her weapons. Frost offered to scope out the place and find a good time they could break in, since she didn’t have keys anymore. (Harley assumed her purse was probably sitting in some patient storage room at Arkham, gathering dust — in other words, impossible to retrieve.)

The news eventually reported on Ivy’s escape while they ate, with zero mention of Harley like they figured. Joker was sulking at first about not being mentioned at all, until the end of the broadcast, when they reported it was rumored he was there (per some security video footage).

After breakfast, Ivy went to pack up some clothes for Harley until she could buy her own; it was best all three of them lay low for a bit, until the GPD ran out of search funds to recapture Ivy right away. Batman would also be intent on finding them, but he was easier to avoid when police weren’t helping out. Ivy leant Harley some athleisure-wear since they weren’t doing anything fancy, then Joker and her popped back into his bedroom to change.

It was hard for them both to avoid touching when they disrobed, but since Ivy and Frost were waiting for them, they resisted. Neither avoided ogling each other, though, and Harley finally saw the multitude of scars marring Joker’s pale skin. Ignoring her curiosity and sympathy for the time being, she asked if he would take Griggs’s gun, since she didn’t want to look at it anymore. (Ultimately they decided to leave it here, Joker explaining that you never know when you’d need a gun handy.)

Because the warehouse meeting was with no one of import, Joker dressed casually with basic black slacks and a dark maroon shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Harley slipped on the borrowed red thermal top and black leggings (relaxed-fit ones, to prevent her wound from rubbing against them).

Once everyone was ready, they rode the elevator down to the parking garage. Ivy squeaked when Harley hugged her tightly, thanking her for the rescue; Ivy’s green cheeks flushed, not used to being casually touched that much so suddenly. She awkwardly returned the hug, then got into her non-descript hybrid to go to her semi-isolated rambler outside the city. Harley and Joker hopped into the back seat of the car Frost arrived in (a much nicer one than what they used for the escape), sitting as close as possible, just shy of Harley being on his lap.

Frost was still perplexed that his boss apparently had a girlfriend now, out of the blue… one that he had only known for a day and was inviting to join them during their criminal escapades. But it wasn’t his place to question Joker, he would do what he wanted and there was no use talking him out of anything. Frost was curious to see where this relationship was heading though, and wondered if he now had to babysit two people that constantly jumped headfirst into deadly situations.

*

As Frost pulled up to Joker’s main warehouse, he drove through the automated gate and parked behind the building. From the outside it looked like a run down, unoccupied building, complete with graffiti tags and boarded up windows. On the inside, however, Joker told Harley that it was fairly modern with a few individual living spaces for his small group of confidants, a communal kitchen area and small gym.

Joker got out of the car first, then jogged around to Harley’s side. As a compromise to him wanting to carry her, they decided she could piggyback this time (after he reminded her that the faster she healed, the sooner they could run around the city), so she hopped up on his back and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

As they headed to the back door (technically the entrance), Harley watched Frost pull out a large black duffel bag from the trunk. “Just put that with the rest, we can deal with it tomorrow,” Joker requested. Frost responded his usual ‘sure thing, boss’, then all three continued into the facility.

Harley wanted to ask what was in there out of sheer curiosity, but she wasn’t quite sure how much Joker would want to divulge, since she was basically a new employee of sorts. Ultimately she decided not to pry and keep her mouth shut, though a few seconds later, Joker spoke up, as if he sensed her curiosity. “We met this crazy guy the other day, calls himself Hooch; he has access to these custom guns, C4, knives, grenades, thermite… pretty much anything you could ever want. So we got a few samples and are considering making him our official weapons supplier if we like them.”

“Anything?” Harley asked, not really knowing how to respond to this information (but loving that he told her about it).

“Apparently… he kept telling us ‘whatever you need, I can get’,” Joker attested while pondering what else the guy had access to.

Harley smiled as her eyebrows rose; her weapons experience was limited to guns via her father. Hopefully she could get hers out of her apartment, she really missed going to the firing range and working on accuracy… the focus and concentration surprisingly relaxed her. That thought made her think of a question to ask him, “Do you have a gun range?”

Smiling asymmetrically and raising an eyebrow, he twisted his head back towards her a bit, “Why yes, I do… wanna go tomorrow?”

“Definitely!” Harley beamed and lightly stroked his chest with her thumbs, the prospect making her giddy.

After they exited what seemed like a storage room (a maze full of shelving and crates of god-knows what), they entered the communal area. Harley saw a small group of people hanging out on couches, playing video games and cards, munching on snacks. Harley had to admit, she was nervous about meeting his loyal group — would they accept her or think she was a pathetic joke? She had no experience in the criminal world, so they might just think she’s some dumb blond following Joker around like a puppy, waiting for praise and treats.

When the group saw Joker approaching, they paused their actions and gave a variety of waves, head nods, and ‘hey boss’ greetings (along with their extremely curious looks of seeing him with a girl on his back, who was obviously more important than just a new henchie).

Joker felt Harley’s grip on him tighten just a bit, assuming it was social anxiety. It was a lot to throw at her over two days — asylum breakouts, gunshot wounds, famous criminal friends, fantastic sex with one of said criminals… but he knew his group of loyals would accept her.

These were the very few people Joker had in his life he had met throughout the years that proved themselves tenfold — Gotham’s throwaways and orphans that he gave jobs to, that turned out to be pricelessly loyal like Frost (and clever enough to stay alive during their adventures). With the other henchies, he could care less what they thought; they were cannon fodder anyway, and most would be dead or in jail before she’d get the chance to know them. Hell, he didn’t even know most of their names, since Frost always hired them.

Joker happily greeted everyone at once, still with Harley on his back. “I wanna introduce you to someone… the gorgeous and deadly Harley Quinn!”

Harley blushed, then waved and smiled at them shyly, “Nice to meetcha.”

Joker continued with proper introductions, gesturing with his head since his hands were occupied. He pointed at a hippie-chic woman and her skater boyfriend on one of the couches that were gaming, “Those two are Kaylee and Adam.” Next he gestured at the two playing Go Fish, a younger guy that looked barely twenty and a 40-something redheaded woman, “That’s Sawyer and Laura.”

Lastly, he nodded to an apathetic guy in a gaudy polka-dot shirt, playing with a switchblade, “And that sad-sack over there is Archie.” Joker tilted his head at him frowned, “Whatcha doing with that knife there, buddy?”

“Hoping it malfunctions and kills me, Boss,” Archie stated dejectedly, still flicking the knife in and out.

Harley had to bite her lips to prevent from laughing at how absurdly sad it sounded; Joker winked at her when he felt her stomach vibrate a bit from a stifled giggle. He decided to summarize Harley’s backstory for the group, already wanting some private time with her. “Harley just broke out of Arkham with Ivy and got shot in the process, so she’ll be joining us once her leg is healed.”

The group, minus Archie, had a surprised or impressed expression on their faces, which Harley was grateful for and made her more relaxed. Sawyer nodded at her respectfully; Adam and Kaylee gave her a wave; Laura raised her beer and toasted her, then smiled at Joker and declared, “Your girl’s a cutie, Boss!”

Harley snickered and ducked her forehead to Joker’s shoulder shyly, making him chuckle.

“Aright, enough chitchat… gonna show her the rest of our impressive digs,” Joker stated, then carried Harley towards a short hallway around the corner, heading to his personal room.

(The group watched as Joker walked towards his unit, then went back to what they were doing, plus conversing about how shocked they were that their boss suddenly had a girlfriend. They were all happy for him, of course, except Archie, who didn’t care either way.)

Joker opened the door to his room and set Harley down once he was inside. She noticed his room and en-suite bathroom looked just as she expected — dark purples and greens, vibrant art, moody lighting, knives and guns accessorizing the countertops, and a huge closet full of his numerous suits.

“Do you stay here a lot?” Harley queried, walking over to his bed and running her fingers over the velvety purple comforter.

“Quite a bit, since the group out there lives here,” Joker replied while kicking off his shoes and socks. “My other place is more for solitude, when people are annoying the shit out of me. So only Frost and Ivy have been there, no one else knows where it is.”

After he finished turning on some lamps, he walked over to Harley and brought her good hand up to his lips. “We’ll head over there once I deal with the drop-off,” he quietly said while brushing his soft lips over her knuckles.

Harley stepped closer to him and ran her other hand over his chest. “How long until they’re here?” she whispered.

Joker let go of her hand and tucked some of her stray hair behind her ear. “Well… since I’m the boss, they’ll wait out there until I tell them to,” he smirked, theorizing why she was asking how much time they had.

Harley ran both her hands down his chest and sighed, tucking her bottom lip between her teeth. She slipped her fingers into the front seam of his shirt and started to unbutton it slowly. “So… am I your girl?” she purred, raising one eyebrow while moving to the next button. (She was genuinely curious, too, since they hadn’t really discussed their situation, even though he essentially asked her to live with him.)

Joker slinked both his hands over her waist and pulled her a bit closer. “Does that sound appealing to you?” he asked with a soft smile (and a touch of hopefulness in his voice).

She slowly drew her hands down to the next button and undid it. “Absolutely,” she answered softly, but with confident resolve. Harley loved the thought of being Joker’s girl; there was something intensely alluring about that — being his — his partner, his lover, his harlequin… it felt powerful, she mused while her stomach fluttered. It emboldened her, too, feeling that it went both ways; if she was his, he was undoubtedly hers. Methodically, she unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, untucking it and slipping it off his shoulders sensually.

“My girl…” he purred, then bit his bottom lip. He tightened his hold on her waist possessively, but didn’t move his hands, wanting to let Harley run the show.

Harley’s heart was beating fast with excitement; it was official, she supposed, even though they barely knew each other. She couldn’t help but feel like they did though, as if their souls had known each other in an alternate life… like they had done this dance a million times before, forever bound together.

After she removed his shirt, Harley ran her hands down his chest to his stomach, brushing her fingers over a few scars. She stepped to the side, turning him with her so his back was facing the end of the bed. Her fingers slipped over his belt, unbuckling it achingly slow, then pulled it through the loops. When she languidly drew his pants zipper down after undoing the button, Joker inhaled and growled gently, making her groin throb. Harley wanted to feel him inside her badly, but she hadn’t had a chance to taste him yet… to explore every detail of him with her tongue. And the thought of the Joker being completely at her mercy, involuntarily reacting to her actions, was deliciously stimulating.

Joker was having a hard time resisting tossing her onto the bed and tearing their clothes off, but this was a whole other arousing sort of torture. Harley slipped her fingers under the waistband of his boxers, then drew them and his pants down, letting the clothing drop to the floor. He pushed them off his feet and pulled Harley to his body, feeling her warmth against his nakedness.

Harley placed her hands on his chest and eased him down to sit on the bed. Joker let go of her waist and watched her lower down to her knees; he tucked his bottom lip between his teeth as his breathing become heavier. Harley grasped his erection with one hand, placing the other on his thigh; she stroked him a few times, pulling a throaty hum out of him.

He placed one hand slightly behind himself to keep his back upright; with the other, he untied her ponytail. His fingers gently ran through her locks, brushing her hair to one side so he could observe her without obstruction. Joker’s eyes rolled closed and he growled when Harley slowly ran the flat of her tongue up his entire length, then flicked the tip of her tongue over his slit.

When she ran her lips down his entire member, sheathing him in her soft, warm mouth, Joker shuddered and groaned. “Ah, fuck, Harley…” he practically whimpered, his hand grasping her hair tenderly.

She hummed in response and pulled her lips back up, lavishing her tongue on the way, tasting his excitement at the top. Her groin pulsed with every sound and reaction she drew out of him, getting wetter as she continued to alternate between using her mouth and hand.

Joker was in delicious agony; her ministrations on him were exquisite as she lubricated him with saliva, her tongue and lips so soft. He wanted to pull her up and embed himself inside of her, knowing he wasn’t going to last much longer, but he was hers to do whatever she wanted at the moment and would follow her lead.

When Harley felt his hand in her hair tighten, she knew he was close; she increased her speed and pressure, sucking harder and listening to his hitched breathing. While she moved her hand to caress his scrotum, she slowly drew in his entire length, undulating her throat; the groan he made had her clit throbbing with her heartbeat. Harley slowly pulled back up, wrapping her lips tightly around him, making him whimper her name. She grasped him with her hand again and stroked him harder while bobbing her head.

When Joker felt her motions get more intense, he couldn’t hold back any longer; he groaned loudly as he came, tightening his hand in her hair. Harley stroked him steadily, sucking every drop out of him until he was quivering with aftershocks. He collapsed back on the bed with a satisfied, exhausted grunt; Harley climbed up next to him and lay on her side, her head propped in one hand, a smug smile on her face. She feathered her fingers over his chest and stomach, listening to his tranquil hum as his breathing leveled out.

Harley giggled when he tucked one hand under her waist and the other on her back, tugging her close to his side. He exhaled softly after she laid her head against his chest and wrapped one arm around his waist, tucking a leg between his. Joker’s steady breathing was hypnotically soothing her while they lounged for a few minutes.

Just as Joker regained his strength and was about to roll her onto her back, pleasuring her into a writhing, sweaty mess, they heard a soft knock at the door. Frost called out, “They’re ready, Boss.” Joker grunted but didn’t sit up, then replied, “Be out in a minute.”

Harley shifted her head to look at him and smiled, “What are you gonna wear?”

Joker chuckled and played with some of her hair, “It’s just the Russian lackeys, so nothing fancy.” Harley sat up, letting him heft himself off the bed with a disgruntled huff. Joker pulled on his pants that were crumpled on the floor, then offered Harley a hand to stand up. He pulled her flush with his body, running his hands over her waist and planting a kiss on her forehead.

“Did you wanna hang out here or go socialize with the group? I’d invite you to join me with the meeting, but these guys are so dull, and it’ll be quick. I basically just have to make an appearance… remind them who their boss is doing business with,” Joker sighed.

Harley chuckled, “I’ll go socialize, but I gotta fix my hair first.”

Joker chortled and released her from his hold, then gave her a light swat on her rear as she headed to the bathroom, making her snicker. Harley flipped on the light and quickly smoothed her hair back into a ponytail, then did a quick rinse with some mouthwash from a bottle nearby.

After Joker finished getting dressed, Harley lustfully watched him strap on his shoulder holsters and slip a switchblade into his pocket. When they were both ready, he opened the door and placed his hand on her lower back, guiding her out as they left.


	5. Games

Before Joker meandered towards the storage area of the warehouse with Frost, he lightly brushed his fingers down the side of Harley’s arm, making her stomach flutter. Every time he touched her, she had such a strong reaction; it was something that hadn’t happened with any of her previous partners. She wondered if this was because she was finally ‘free’ lately, letting go of all the stress and overanalyzing habits, making her physiologically sedate.

Or perhaps she just had never been attracted to any of her past boyfriends this much, since none of them were as intense and unique as Joker (or had reciprocated her feelings to this extent). Either way, it made her want to touch (and be touched by) him all the time.

After Harley watched Joker disappear around the corner with a lovesick smile, she made her way over to the gang. The Go Fish game seemed to have ended, as well as Archie’s suicide attempts, and now those three were watching Kaylee and Adam battle each other in Mortal Kombat. Even though she was feeling more confident after their first meet-and-greet, Harley still felt a bit shy. “Mind if I hang out?”

The group gave various eager nods and ‘come sit down’ motions with their hands; no doubt they were very curious about her, just as she was about them. Harley kicked off her shoes and sat cross-legged in one of the cozy recliners to watch the game. Adam seemed exasperated, so she figured Kaylee was winning; to her amusement, both of them were staring fiercely at the screen, grunting and pushing controller buttons roughly.

Laura spoke up first, taking a sip of her beer, “So Harley… you were locked up in Arkham? Can I ask what for? If that’s too personal, just tell me to piss off.”

Harley chuckled; she figured this question would come up at some point. It seemed that Joker trusted these people enough, being roommates for the most part, so she figured she might as well be honest.

“I killed Dr. Arkham,” she stated clinically.

All five halted their actions and looked over at Harley wide-eyed (which made her cheeks flush). Harley smiled and shrugged, as if to answer their collective ‘holy shit, really?’ reaction.

“He attacked me in his office, so I stabbed him with a letter opener,” Harley explained.

Impressed looks waved over all of their faces, which made Harley happy. Kaylee and Adam resumed their game after Kaylee nodded her approval and sneered ‘good’.

Laura turned her body more towards Harley, clearly intrigued. “Shit, so… did you work there then?”

Harley nodded, “Yep, I was a psychiatrist; apparently Arkham thought I owed him something for giving me a job. He literally told me that before he got all grabby.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust.

After taking another sip, Laura asked, “Were you J’s doc? I can never keep track of when Batman captures him.” She chuckled and added, “That’s Frost’s job… poor Frost.”

Harley snickered and was now curious about how many times Joker had been in that revolving-door prison. “I was Ivy’s doctor, actually, so she brought me with when J helped her escape. I think she felt bad for me… but I was the only doctor she would talk to, so we kinda became friends.”

Sawyer chimed in, “Damn… I thought Ivy hated everyone. Well, except for J and Frost… and by extension, us; though she doesn’t hang out here very much.” Sawyer frowned, looking despondent.

His pouting was adorable, Harley thought; clearly he had a little crush on the redhead. “Yeah, I guess I made quite the impression on her,” she mused.

“And J, apparently,” Laura smirked and air-toasted her with the beer, making Harley’s cheeks flush.

She knew what question was coming next… Harley looked down at her hands and started fingering her shirtsleeve hems anxiously, wondering what his group of loyals would think.

After a quick sip, Laura tilted her head curiously (though non-judgmentally), “So you guys met… yesterday?”

Harley shyly ducked her head and nodded, “Yeah… I know it’s weird, but… it feels like I’ve known him forever, if that makes sense.” She continued, trying to explain herself, getting a bit flustered. “I used to plan and try to control everything in my life, including relationships, with extremely unrealistic expectations. This ‘go with the flow’ lifestyle just feels incredible… like I’m alive finally, so why not dive-in head first, ya know?” She ended with a shrug.

Laura was listening intently, nodding her understanding while the others drifted back to watching the battle, content in just listening. “Makes sense,” she concurred, her eyes glazing over slightly, seemingly lost in a memory that had her smiling softly.

When Harley mimicked the curious look Laura gave her a few moments ago, she answered her non-verbal query, “It’s a long story, I’ll talk your ear off someday.” After she saw Harley smile and nod in acceptance, Laura changed the subject, figuring that was plenty of dramatic backstory for one day. “You guys hanging out here after the meeting?” She gestured her head to the storage area.

“Sounds like we’re going to his other place, once they’re done,” Harley replied.

“Which one? The private one?” Laura asked, finishing off her beer.

Harley shrugged, “Umm, I think so... how many places does he have?”

“Shit… I’m not even sure. Five maybe?” Laura speculated. “This place is like headquarters, though; besides his permanent home — the one you’re probably going to — the others are more like temporary safe-houses.” She added with a snicker, “Then there’s that really shitty warehouse over by Dixon Docks, but that’s more like an unused storage facility; we rarely go there since we got this place all set up.”

Kaylee chimed in between killing moves, ignoring Adam’s grousing. “That place reeks! Boss had me go there a month ago to grab anything useful; I think he forgot what was all there. Anyway, the floor is like, covered in dirt and animal shit… at least, I think it was from animals,” she ended with a gagging sound, making everyone chuckle.

Since Adam kept losing, he scoffed in concession and lifted up the controller towards Harley. “You wanna play? You’ll get your ass kicked… or maybe since you’re the boss’s girl, Lee will let ya win.” He elbowed Kaylee and smirked, “Wont’cha, Lee?”

Kaylee sighed at the prospect of letting someone else win, then grumbled, “I spose… just this once.”

Adam snickered at her petulance; he patted her back, then explained to Harley, “She really hates losing; typical Aries.” Everyone laughed after Kaylee scoffed dramatically and rolled her eyes.

Before Kaylee could defend herself, Harley smiled and spoke up, “I’m good, thanks though. I haven’t played any console games in ages; plus it’s fun watching how serious you guys are.”

While Kaylee and Adam went back to picking new characters for the next round, Harley pointed her thumb towards the kitchen behind her, “You guys mind if I grab a water?”

Laura, whom Harley now recognized as the group’s den mother, answered, “Of course! Grab anything you want; it’s communal, you don’t have to ask.”

When Harley stood up and headed to the fridge, Sawyer added, “Just make sure you leave a four-pack for Joker, though; he gets maaaaad if there’s none left.” He shut his eyes and shook his head slowly, as if he was recalling a dramatic memory.

Harley furrowed her brow and tilted her head, pausing her trek to the kitchen, “Four-pack?”

Sawyer smiled and nodded his head towards the fridge, “You’ll see.”

After opening the fridge, Harley chortled — one of the shelves was laden with pudding Snack Packs. She smiled at J’s evident addiction (which she would definitely be bugging him about later), then grabbed a water from the bottom shelf.

As she closed the door and turned around, she spotted a burly guy walking towards the couches from the storage area. He looked like a stereotypical mobster… the haughty gait was blatantly apparent, as well as the garish necklaces and rings accessorizing his cheap, ill-fitting suit.

He spoke at the group in a raucous and mocking tone, “Hey freaks! Did ya miss me?”

The group collectively grunted or sighed (even Archie), clearly not having missed him in the slightest. Harley already decided didn’t like his vibe, so she hung back in the kitchen, standing by the island table to observe. While she chugged some water, the faux-mobster plopped down unceremoniously in the recliner she was sitting in previously, giving her more reason to contentedly remain where she was.

Laura spoke with disdain, “Tank… what are you doing here? We thought you were dead.”

Tank scoffed at her and sneered, “No, grandma, I’m still alive; been workin’ with the Russians since Joker ain’t payin’ much these days.”

Harley found it curious that this troglodyte didn’t have any issues complaining about Joker out loud, in one of his places, potentially within earshot. She immediately hated this guy and his arrogant, narcissistic demeanor and aggrandized nickname… some people were so easy to read, she mused.

Laura chuckled mockingly, “He’s paying _us_ plenty, just not you, since you bungled that last job. And by the way, you’re in Harley’s seat.” She glanced at Harley out of the corner of her eye, biting her bottom lip as if she immediately regretted referencing her, if only to make Tank go away.

Tank was unfazed by Laura’s insult, ignoring her and glancing at the TV; it took him a moment to register what she said about his claimed recliner. “Harley? Who the fuck is Harley?”

She knew it was inevitable he’d be made aware of her presence, but Harley left it to the group to introduce her, busying herself by drinking water.

Sawyer answered him with deadpan ridicule, “She’s behind you, eagle eye.”

After Tank turned his head to the kitchen, Harley gave a quick half-wave and negligible smile; she loitered in the kitchen, not in any rush to reclaim her seat. Unfortunately (but expectantly), Tank decided to go to her instead.

When he stood up, Laura’s irritated sigh at the cliché, smarmy creep went unnoticed. Her and Sawyer intuitively decided to watch the interaction, incase he harassed Harley and they’d need to step in. Kaylee and Adam were also slowing their gameplay a bit, very curious if he would act as stupid as they knew him to be.

As Tank moseyed towards Harley, her stomach churned with disgust. He was one of those guys that clearly spent all his spare time at the gym, but only building muscle, not actual strength training — form over function, which radiated overcompensation. Harley sipped more water, purposefully looking at the TV instead of Tank coming over to talk (rather, most likely his version of flirting).

He came around the counter and stood uncomfortably close, causing Harley to lean back a tad. “Well, hey there, cupcake… I’m Tank,” he drawled, smiling at her with his attempt at imitating charm (though it looked entirely phony, not to mention his teeth were stained yellow from tobacco). He stuck his hand out at her to shake, so Harley reflexively took it; but instead of shaking, he lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles.

She felt like vomiting; her eyes slightly pinched into a glare — that was J’s territory, only he was allowed to kiss her skin! She pulled her hand away quickly, offering her indifferent reply to his introduction, “I’m Harley.”

He still remained too close to her for comfort, so she slowly inched her way back. Awkward social niceties were apparently still embedded into her civilized brain, so she felt stuck having to humor this creep. It was also sadly instinctual — every woman had to learn the skill of how to let guys down nicely, from fear of rejection reprisal (violence being the worst-case scenario).

Tank made a point to look her over lustfully, like she was supposed to take it as a compliment; it only served to make her skin crawl as her arms instinctively crossed in front of her after she put the water bottle down.

Once Tank was finished eyeballing her, he asked, “So what’s a hot little thing like you doing working for the Joker?” He inched closer to her, probably noticing she was trying to put the conventional arm’s-length space between them.

Harley wasn’t sure what to say, so she just offered the truth nonchalantly, “Well, I’m his girl, so I guess it’s a nepotism situation.”

Tank reacted completely opposite of what Harley assumed, guffawing and shaking his head as if she were stupid. “His girl!?! Joker ain’t never had no moll… c’mon honey, seriously, what’s your story?” He leaned an elbow against the counter, trying to look casual.

Harley blinked, taken aback by his ignorance, and now becoming irritated; she wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep up social propriety. Luckily Laura spoke up for her, sounding vexed, “She’s Joker’s girl, Tank, so lay off!”

Just like before, Tank was deaf to Laura’s voice, since his expression didn’t falter and he kept yapping. “How bout you join me on a job, I can show you the ropes… you can see what a real gangster does,” he stated snobbishly.

Harley noticed he kept glancing over his shoulder, making sure Joker wasn’t within earshot; so at the very least, he knew he was doing something questionable, but kept at it anyway.

“Ah, no thanks,” Harley timidly replied, edging back a bit more. She hated feeling so unsure of herself, wanting to tell this guy to fuck off (and maybe bash his face in a tiny bit), but she didn’t want to cause a scene, being the newbie.

Having experienced this exact situation in the past, Harley noticed the slight twitch in Tank’s expression at her decline. At that point, she knew he wasn’t going to give up. She glanced at the couches from the corner of her eye and noticed the gang was all studiously paying attention.

Feeling more confident after seeing that she had support and he was outnumbered, Harley felt her energy shift; now she wanted to see what other attempts he’d make… it’d be an amusing game to pass the time until Joker was done.

Tank moved closer to her, offering another chance to bask in his presence. “Well, then let’s go get coffee sometime… my treat. Wear something nice, though,” he instructed, looking her up and down critically. Athleisure-wear seemed to offend his assumption of how women should dress.

Harley couldn’t help the snort that escaped from her nose; she tried to hide it by swiftly replying, “Um, I don’t think so, sorry.” Her stomach churned when she noticed how displeased he became; she changed her mind, deciding to be done with this experiment, it was too stressful.

She started to turn and walk away, but Tank grasped her elbow roughly to keep her in place. “Hey, c’mon, I’m asking nicely here,” he cajoled. Harley’s mind suddenly flashed back to Dr. Arkham’s office for a split second. Her rage started to simmer, so she took a deep breath to calm herself, then pulled her arm firmly up and out of Tank’s hold. “Please don’t touch me,” she demanded through gritted teeth.

Tank chortled, “It’s just coffee, sweetheart, you’re actually saying ‘no’ to that?”

“Yes, I’m saying no,” she hissed.

Unbeknownst to Harley, Kaylee and Adam stopped their game, poised to assist her, and Laura and Sawyer were getting up to intercede. (Even Archie was on alert.)

Tank scoffed. “Listen, doll, I don’t have time for your dumb games,” he declared, now angry.

As Harley sighed and backed away more aggressively, Tank swiftly grabbed her injured wrist; she gasped as pain radiated straight up her arm. Her memories flitted by like lightning — snapshots of the asylum — the discomfort reminding her of being locked up, tortured by guards and doctors, and Griggs’s constant harassment. Rage seeped through her guarded exterior; she turned back to Tank and glared at him with a scowl. “Let go now,” Harley seethed.

“You’re a feisty little thing, aren’t ya,” Tank taunted, pulling her closer to him.

Harley vaguely heard the gang in the background, yelling at Tank to let her go while moving to terminate his coercion attempts. There was no baton or blunt-force object within reach, so Harley had to improvise — she shot her knee forward and up, snapping it right into his crotch. Tank folded right away, groaning and swearing, releasing her wrist and grasping his groin with both hands. Before he could recover, Harley took advantage of his hunched over posture and thrust her knee violently back up with a snarl, straight into his nose.

Tank comically fell backwards, crying out unintelligible, garbled threats, rolling to his side and curling up into a fetal position. Blood was pouring out of his nose, making Harley curious if she actually broke it. She felt the urge to kick him in the back a few times, but Laura was suddenly at her side, giggling at the pathetic, blubbering mess on the floor.

“Shit, you okay?” Laura sputtered while trying to stifle her laughter. “That was awesome,” she added happily. The rest of the group looked either shocked or amused that the huge, conceited guy was reduced to a feeble, bloody mess.

“Yeah, I’m fine… told him to let go,” Harley grumbled. Laura steered her away from the kitchen towards the hallway that led to Joker’s room. Harley now realized that the leg she used on Tank was her wounded one, so it was burning a bit.

“Why don’t you go to J’s room and we’ll clean up this mess,” Laura offered, smiling and gently touching the back of her shoulder.

“Okay, thanks… sorry, I just kinda snapped,” Harley muttered, trying to regain control over her anger and breathing.

Laura shook her head, “No, that was perfect, he’s had it coming for a long time. Joker stopped hiring him cause he was such an incompetent, annoying asshole.”

“Thanks again,” Harley smiled at her and turned to go into Joker’s room. She shut the door behind her and immediately went to the sink to wash her hand that Tank had slobbered on. After that, she rolled up her pant leg to see if her stitches were bleeding or had torn, but luckily they looked okay.

Harley sighed heavily as she smoothed her hair back; she was so sick of being harassed and touched without her permission. Apparently sexual harassment is blanketed across the criminal and civilian world equally. But at least the gang would now see her as more than just the boss’s girl — that she could handle herself and be an asset. Granted, it was just one guy who was out of his depth, but still…

*

Back in the kitchen, Laura and Sawyer grabbed the oft-used blood cleaning supplies to remove the trail that Tank was dribbling across the floor as Adam and Kaylee manhandled him to the bathroom nearby. They stood guard, making sure he didn’t leave, knowing that Joker would want to have a chat with him. Adam had disarmed Tank before hauling him up to stand, which he seemed to not notice, being in too much pain. The group all knew this was probably Tank’s last few moments alive, since their boss didn’t tolerate idiots for very long.

Archie, disappointed at missing the fight for potential death-by-crossfire, meandered to the fridge and grabbed a pudding cup. He offered to help, but the others responded that they had it handled (because they knew he’d just whine and complain the whole time about not dying).

*

Joker strolled back into the communal area from the meeting, it having taken longer than he wanted. (Though his only goal in mind was to get some actual real privacy with Harley at his other place, so time seemed to drag painfully.) When he went through the doorway and turned the corner to the kitchen, he saw Laura and Sawyer cleaning up blood off the floor. Joker tilted his head, looking confused, “What’d I miss?”

Sawyer smiled at Joker happily while glancing towards the restroom that Tank was in, cleaning up his bloody face. “Harley beat up Tank,” he stated with gleeful amusement. When Joker furrowed his brow, perplexed, Laura nodded in confirmation.

Joker snickered, “Really? Dammit, I missed it…” His smile suddenly dropped as his expression turned dark. “Wait, why?” he asked intensely, clenching his jaw, his eyes shining with anger.

Kaylee sighed while leaving her post to grab a pop from the fridge. “Uh, he got a little handsy, Boss… but Harley’s ok; she’s in your room.”

Joker paused, trying to process his peaking anxiety that some asshole had touched and upset his girl; he debated kicking down the bathroom door and filling Tank with bullets… but Harley was priority. “Frost!” Joker yelled, unaware that his ancillary was a few feet away.

“Yeah, Boss?” Frost replied calmly.

Joker started walking to his room quickly, shouting an order over his shoulder, “Put him in the chair!” He barely heard Frost’s confirmation at his instructions as he strode to his room, hoping Harley wasn’t hurt.

*

Joker burst through the door, startling Harley from the bathroom as she was drying off her hands from a second wash to remove any trace of Tank germs. He reached her in a few long strides, grasping her face and scanning it anxiously. Harley was expecting him to be a little pissed at her for causing a ruckus, but his avidly concerned gaze told her otherwise.

“I’m okay,” she offered. When he wrapped his arms around her she squeaked in surprise, his excessive distress making her chuckle; she hugged him back, thoroughly enjoying his sympathy. “I’m okay, really. I just… I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Joker shifted and moved one hand back to her face, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He furrowed his brow and tilted his head, “What? Why are you sorry?”

Harley wasn’t really sure why she was sorry, either; her old life as Harleen had her apologizing all the time for things she didn’t need to. But she didn’t want Joker thinking he couldn’t bring her places if she was going to impulsively beat up annoying people. At the very least, that probably wasn’t great for his business dealings.

“For causing a scene, I guess… I didn’t mean to overreact,” Harley chewed the inside of her lip and furrowed her brow. “But I told him not to touch me, and he didn’t listen,” she huffed indignantly.

Joker shook his head and sighed, “That guy is a fucking moron; and even if he wasn’t, you can beat up anyone you want, whenever you want.” He smirked, running the back of his knuckles down her jawline. “But on one condition — I get to watch,” he requested earnestly, making Harley chuckle.

“Deal,” she affirmed, nodding her head once. Harley wrapped her hands around his shoulders sensually and pulled him closer. Joker moved his hand back to her waist at the same time, then brushed his nose against hers and kissed her lightly. Feeling protective over someone felt strange… yet powerful, like he now had more purpose and motivation.

Their kiss intensified as Harley started to relax, her PTSD fading away while Joker held her. Before it escalated, Joker pulled away and smiled, “So… what do you wanna do with him?” He quirked an eyebrow, intensely curious about what she would say. He knew she was capable of a lot —unleashing her rage and letting it guide her actions was a beautiful sight. The anticipation of seeing her with proper weapons excited him; he couldn’t wait to watch her evolve and harness that power during their escapades.

Harley’s eyebrows rose, “He’s still here?” She assumed the group would have run him out by now, or he’d vacate on his own once he could walk.

Joker tightened his arms around her waist. “Mmhmm… no one touches you and walks away,” his voice lowered to a growl, eyes glistening feverishly.

As pleasurable goosebumps waved over her body, Harley’s clinical mind was poking at her that this was possessive behavior. But the odd thing was, it didn’t bother her one bit… if anything, it was exhilarating since she was feeling the same way about him. Harley hummed out loud, biting her bottom lip in thought, “Is there anything in that goodie-bag Hooch gave you we could, I dunno, maybe test on him?”

Joker’s entire face brightened, his classic, wide grin appeared, while his green eyes luminesced. His connection to Harley seemed concrete at that moment, like the final puzzle piece clicking into place. It was as if she was made for him… and he would ardently do whatever she needed, to ensure Harley felt the same way about him.

Emotions that Joker had never felt before were overwhelming his senses… unsure how to articulate his feelings, he mustered up a summarized, all-encompassing response. “My girl,” he growled softly, stroking her back with his hands. He pulled her even tighter to his body and flicked his tongue out swiftly to lick her lips like she had done to him last evening.

Harley giggled as warmth flowed over her body, elated that he seemed highly pleased with her suggestion.

“Let’s go find us some toys to play with!” Joker declared enthusiastically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, but this chunk was ready! I'll make it up to you guys with extra smut in the final one. 
> 
> I also got a lot written for my one-shot for V-Day...!


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